


Of Thunder, Of Eclipse

by Persana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Full Shift Werewolves, Implied Mpreg, Lots of plot, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Dean Winchester, Russian Castiel (Supernatural), Russian Mafia, Shy Dean Winchester, Slow Build, Slow Burn, but give it a try, its BAMF!CAS, this is a very very slow build with lots of plot, we go into full details and the plot twists are insane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 90,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persana/pseuds/Persana
Summary: “What if I leave? Would you chase me?”“I would chase you, Любимый моя, anywhere, on snow, on fire, in life and in death, to hell and back. I would chase you.”------------An alpha who has lost its mate is both an unpredictable and grief stricken mess. But Castiel Dmitri Tippens is Russian Mafia and the hybrid alpha with dominion over America, who lost the love of his life, his green eyed omega at the hands of the cult that were the zetas and his coping mechanism was not that of an alpha, it was bleeding the zetas dry and riding the wolf-kin from their treachery.Fate takes an unusual turn when Varianella Affinis--the phoenix flower and the only weapon against the hybrid is stolen from a sacred monastery forbidden to wolves and humans alike, everyone but an omega.Perplexed and intrigued, he sets on to uncover the mystery of the omega--confident that he in fact, is the lost love of his life.(Chapter 21 is in the works)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester
Comments: 122
Kudos: 194





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I dont usually publish fics, but here we are. This fic is inspired by every omegaverse fic I've ever read, like literally. Initially this was supposed to be only for myself, and some of my friends but what the hell right?  
> Anyways, I would really appreciate your thoughts, criticism, constructive hopefully, i'm a baby.

“Well, the Colombians are cockroaches. There is nothing dangerous about them.”

Gabriel’s input was met with a scoff from Anna. “But it’s better to not give them the benefit of the doubt, humans are scrappy especially criminals.” 

“At least they’re better than us.” Anna muttered, a whirl of sadness rising from her scent. 

“Oh please, not again.” 

She had always been compassionate towards humans, having fallen for one once. Breakups always were hard, human or not. Gabriel rolled his eyes at his sister’s imprudence. “What?” She snapped. 

“That’s not very Russian of you, младшая сестра.” He snorted earning a glare from her. It really was neither very Russian of her, nor wolf-kin but she was still very young and having spent half her life as a human didn’t help much. “Besides, you have to understand what it means to be Mafia _and_ wolf-kin. Both our worlds are cut-throat, so ‘feelings’ will only get you killed if not tortured which by the way is WORSE.” 

“Like it got our brother killed?”

Gabriel winced from the shadows of the dim lit pack room. As nosy as Anna was, and as much as the brothers loved her, one mention of this off limits topic and KA BOOM! The alpha brother would have her throat ripped, no questions asked. 

“Our brother is alive, Anna. And if you haven’t noticed, tolerance is not that douchebags strongest suit. You realize this matter is off limits for a reason?” He softly stated or more like asked. Gabriel was a mischievous little bastard who took comfort in other people’s error, but Anna was only 20, and the last thing he wanted was for her to land in hot water especially in front of their alpha brother.

She nodded, her scent a mix of fear and worry. Anna was more or less completely human in a sense, she could turn on full moons only, and her healing abilities were problematic as well but she had Krushnic blood running through her veins and that was enough for them to take her in pack after her mother died. Their father had sired her with a human, so naturally she did not present until after she turned 13. It was a miracle that she even presented but Krushnic genes had always prevailed. She was a piss poor example of a beta but a bastard Krushnic beta regardless.

Gabriel had taken a quick liking of her, and soon others had followed except Michael—he was the eldest and he hardly liked or conversed with any of his siblings. And Gabriel wasn't one to complain.

“One night a month I ask from you all and look nobody is here yet.” Anna glanced at the big acrylic gold wall clock behind her that struck quarter past 7. “Nik said he was coming, and I don’t know what became of Ishim.” 

“Hell, If they don’t come I’m gonna dance the lambada on their freakin’ heads.” Gabriel retorted playfully and hoped his brothers won’t be total assholes and show up for the dinner.

Anna had been trying to convince everyone to have dinner together once a month in the D.C Pack House, not that they don’t have dinners together often, but everything is so severely business most of the time that she deemed it paramount to have an informal dinner at least every month. 

Ishim was the second to arrive, with a bottle of cheap champagne. Apparently cheap champagne tastes better, upon which Gabriel had rolled his eyes so hard. Anna chortled but thanked him and they stood waiting in the pack hall, listening to Ishim’s love story of the week.

“Your secondary gender should’ve been Casanova.” Gabriel had teased. The next topic was mob of the week, and so went Ishim’s tales on and on until they heard a distant howl. 

“He’s here.” Anna shuddered, her wolf resisted replying to the alpha howl.

Apart from the full moon, the alphas howl could also help her shift, not that she had dared to try. Shifting when you’re more human than wolf was as exhausting as it was painful. The next howl was closer, the woods surrounding the glass house ruffled as Anna expectantly waited, more like anxiously awaited the arrival of her alpha brother. Gabriel rolled his eyes at Ishim jokingly, Ishim seemed to return the feeling.

“It’s like watching your teenage sister meet Jonas Brothers for the first time all over again.” Ishim whispered. 

“Tell me about it. Wait until Nik arrives, he spoils her more.” 

The alphas wolf circled the house in his bravura form. The dark red gold coat of his fur shone in the little to no light from the half moon that adorned the night sky. Anna sucked in a sharp breath as she took a step behind unconsciously, while the alpha trotted still in the open field—slowly getting closer to the entrance of the house. Anna’s eyes followed his disappearing form from the glass, a sense of childlike wonder on her slim face. Gabriel stepped forward towards the sliding door prepared to greet his brother—the wolf had disappeared entirely when the door slid open and the naked alpha gracefully emerged. 

“Моя альфа.” They uttered in unison and knelt in reverence. 

“вставать.” He replied, his voice as husky as ever. “This evening was supposed to be unceremonious, was it not?” He pointed out causing Gabriel and Ishim to let out a little laugh considering his dramatic entry, which was something. “Quiet.” He tiredly commanded with his stoic bitch face, earning pin drop silence from the brothers immediately. With a corner of his mouth upturned into a smirk, his eyes fell on Anna. “May I get some clothes?”

\------------------

“Castiel,’ Anna breathed watching her brother pull on a white tee on his defined broad body. “I didn’t know you’d come.”

Castiel ruffled his damp hair wondering when he’d gotten wet while Gabriel and Ishim’s eyes amusedly followed his movements. They did like to make a spectacle out of him. 

“I didn’t know I’d come as well.” He admitted honestly, smoothing down a few wrinkles on the worn out white tee. He did prefer his suits over every other piece of clothing, but the worn out white tee gave him a sense of 'informality' that Anna wanted them to have.

He glanced at Anna who was smiling at him, it was unlike how his half-sister had grown on him through the years. He knew how much it meant to Anna that he was there and it warmed even his cold heart. “But I’m happy to be here. A dinner together would be nice.” 

It was not that he was not happy to be there, it was that he hadn’t come on his sister’s invitation initially—he had come on business, in a way. He couldn’t help feel a little guilty, but he was _the_ alpha, and that his siblings understood more than anything. He took a seat with his brothers, Ishim’s cheap champagne in their glasses.

“This tastes like rotten horseshit and don’t even ask me how I know what rotten horseshit tastes like!” Gabriel made a face earning a chuckle from Anna and a glare from Ishim. 

“You lot are so spoiled, enjoy the cheap little things in life.” Ishim retorted, Castiel did not understand half the conversations his brothers indulged in, and it was good that he didn’t. 

“Cheap little things? We are _the Mafiya_ , you lunatic!” 

“You know Nik was the first one to happily accept my dinner invitation. Do you think he's okay?” Anna glanced at the clock, a worry rose in her flowery scent and Castiel found himself amused yet again. She was worried about Nikolas like he could be in danger. But she was extremely young, Castiel could not expect her to understand their ways and besides he enjoyed the little sibling drama from afar a bit too much. 

“I ran here and I’m still early,’ Castiel remarked taking a quick chug of his Billionaire Vodka, he knew better than to try Ishim’s cheap champagne. “He likes being fashionably late.” 

“Yeah, you and he are quite the show offs.” Gabriel countered. Castiel shrugged guiltily though he liked to think he was less prideful than his alpha brother Michael who he hadn’t seen in years. He wondered what fresh hell would befall upon them should Michael wish to return to the pack from his usual scheming. 

“You can’t blame him, he’s an alpha.” Ishim teased. 

“Who can blame him? He’s _the_ alpha.” Castiel smiled at Gabriel’s pride for him. Though he was not much of a people’s person, he always enjoyed the company of his brothers, especially Gabriel. Anna was of course a naïve sweet bundle to be around but Gabriel was Castiel’s most trusted confidante. If it weren’t for his patience and wisdom, Castiel would’ve lost himself to his rage and possibly murdered the world.

\---------------------

“What do we have here?”

Gabriel chuckled causing Castiel to look over from his phone. “Look what the wolf dragged in.”

Castiel’s eyes made out two silhouettes in the darkness of his office and he could taste the scent of terror and blood on his tongue, not from his brother of course, but the human guest he’d brought with him. 

“Nikolas,’ Castiel tilted his head greeting the very late arrival of his brother and that too with a woman who was bleeding from her nose. There was a sense of urgency in Nikolas’ scent underneath all his sardonic personality. “You’re late for dinner.”

Castiel said, his eyes still lingering on the screen of his phone. 

“Прости меня! я приношу радостные вести, брат.” 

“Glad tidings? This girl reeks of _bad_ tidings.” Gabriel retorted rolling his eyes, still leaning on the window behind Castiel’s desk. A shuffling hint of impending doom rising from his scent, Castiel raised his brow in question towards Nikolas who had now flopped on the couch comfortably, settling in the soft darkness of the room. Whilst the girl’s weak body splayed on the floor, soft cries escaping her lips. 

“I brought you a present,’ He announced smugly all while Castiel emotionlessly stared at his phone, trying to make sense of a text from his human informant who had infiltrated a rival company for information. He spoke bad Russian and it was even worse in text. “Now I guarantee, it will make your life, or break it though I imagine the latter will prevail.”

Castiel glanced at the girl on the floor wondering if Nikolas had brought her as a whore for him, but Nikolas knew better than to attempt bringing a human girl for pleasure to a pack house. 

“I doubt anything can make or break me at this point but the change is welcomed. Speak. I don’t have all night. Ishim and Anna are expecting us for dinner.” Castiel countered without sparing a glance at him as he typed his response.

Nikolas had told him on the phone that he’d gotten a big fish in his claws, that was very much the reason Castiel decided to attend the informal dinner, well half the reason, the priority being spending quality ‘informal’ time with his siblings. At least that’s what he told himself. 

“I seized a human trafficking racketeer in New York a couple weeks ago commissioned by Sonora Cartel, nasty business those self appointed Escobars trafficking people from Mexico in MY DOMAIN. Can you believe it? The sheer disrespect!” 

“Huh, serves you right for not taking a befitting stroke against the Sonoras. They’re like cockroaches too!” Gabriel huffed in hilarity earning a simmering glare from Nikolas. Castiel heaved a sigh directing his undivided attention towards his brothers, glancing one more time at the girl on the floor. 

“And? If you wanted to give me a monthly report of your failures, you should've just told me on the phone.” Castiel’s cold blue eyes pierced Nikolas’, as much as he loved his brothers, he did not like babying them to do their job. 

“How cold of you, брат,’ Nikolas grimaced dramatically before continuing causing Gabriel to let out another sarcastic huff. “Anyways, it is all done, the bodies all burned. The Sonoras are residue, and in flames as we speak.” Nikolas announced. “What I’m trying to tell you is that this girl here is from the монастырь in Mexico.” 

“You mean _the_ monastery?” Gabriel asked. 

“возмутительный.” Castiel declared in disbelief. “They are, what you may call, reserved. They never open their doors to wolf-kin, let alone humans.” Castiel reasoned, because it was unlikely and he could hardly see himself care for a sacred monastery. He was not a religious man and rightly so. 

“There was some holy and hot priest x priest action in the monastery apparently, which by the way is disturbing, my whole life was a lie but her,’ He pointed at the girl, and Castiel’s eyes followed. “She is the product of that consecrated hookup and she tells me that recently a flower was taken from the monastery.” 

Castiel let out a low growl that travelled through the quiet room. Gabriel’s face was flushed of every color. 

“No, no, you’re mistaken. No alpha would dare, and even if they were to, they can’t.” Gabriel scowled.

Castiel was no fool, he knew where the conversation was headed. He could taste the words on Nicolas’ tongue. 

“Exactly, nobody would dare, I hardly think anyone cares anymore. They gave up dethroning Castiel a long time ago…..nevertheless somebody _walked_ in that monastery and took it.” Nikolas’ voice was low, in a secretive manner as he walked up to Castiel whose eyes flashed a dangerous tint of wolf red. “You know only one creature can freely walk into that monastery. And that only means one thing."

"он жив." He breathed.

\--------

Gabriel knew better than to chase after his brothers angry wolf, he had spared them in the moment of ire and that was no less than a blessing. Castiel’s anger knew no bounds as did his love, but years of self control were lost that night. Castiel didn’t care about the monastery or the flower, he didn’t care about much but it was the implication of the omega’s existence that had set him off. He had once prevented his brother from murdering the world, he didn’t know if he could do it again. 

“Do you have any idea what you have done, you big bag of dicks!” Gabriel snarled nearly upturning the table in front of him. “Is this some sort of revenge for Luce?” 

“Careful now, you know I care about Castiel.” Nikolas muttered, his dark eyes set on Gabriel as he paced around the pack hall, his wolf in distress. Anna watched, Ishim listened—the room filled with confused and fearful scents. 

“It took him years, Nik. He grieved for years! He drowned the world in blood, did you forget? Need I remind you, brother, what it took for us to bring him back from the alter of his own sacrifice?” Gabriel felt betrayed. He could not watch Castiel be devoured by his past, but it had been too far gone thanks to Nikolas. 

“That is my point!” Nikolas all but screamed in his face. “He rose from the throes of death and to what? To forget? You think he _can_ forget? Look, if the omega exists then it gives Castiel’s life a purpose! And you may think that he’s better off without knowing the likelihood of the omegas existence, but I will not watch him spend the rest of his life blaming himself for something he couldn't have possibly prevented, not when the gods have given him a chance.” 

Gabriel's head turned slowly towards him, “He believes in no god. He hasn’t for a long time, but I will humor you on this one. If you, for one moment, think that this will end with _the notebook_ reunion between two lovers than I have news for you,’ Gabriel was now standing in Nikolas’ face, literally. “It will end bloody, it will end in a pile of bodies that we would have to burn in our backyards, it will end with our brother in the same ditch that we pulled him out from. Just an FYI.”

Gabriel grimaced, his voice low and something shifted in Nikolas, maybe regret, maybe not. Gabriel couldn’t tell anymore. But what he could tell was that the chain of events that were about to transpire would change the course of the Krushnics, if not the whole world of wolf-kin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> младшая сестра- little sister  
> Моя альфа- my alpha  
> вставать- rise  
> Прости меня! я приношу радостные вести, брат- forgive me, i bring glad tiding, brother.  
> возмутительный- impossible  
> он жив- he's alive


	2. The Mission

The combination of warm and slight cold wind blew into the night. D.C’s humid subtropical climate hadn’t always been to Castiel’s liking or his wolf for that matter, he liked cold more than he liked warm but then again, that was just a reflection of his own spirit, what he lacked in life—warmness represented vulnerability but he could withstand the cold, no problem. His wolf’s temper bled into him often times, as powerful as everyone deemed him, what kind of an alpha can’t control his own wolf? 

But this time, it was different. He didn’t mind losing himself to his wolf, it was partially his own anger that triggered the shift and rightly so. And now his wolf ran wild into the spread out forest around the pack house, completely oblivious of the huge trees that stood in the way. His instinct was RUN, RUN, RUN, until Castiel’s searing white fury found a cold shore—a familiar pair of eyes that reminded him of a dense forest, filled with green. A faint scent of Freesia in the garden after fresh rain that he couldn’t quite forget, even after years, even after a lifetime it was as fresh, etched in his memory, seared into his eyes. 

It grounded him, it was his anchor even way before he supposedly cheated death and rose from the ashes but the news of the omegas possible existence made him lose his cool, his everything. Now his insides itched, to go seek what he’d seeked all his life, only this time there was hope. There was a promise. 

_“What if I leave? Would you chase me?”_

_“_ _I would chase you, любимый моя, anywhere, on snow, on fire, in life and in death, to hell and back. I would chase you.”_

The words echoed in his mind, on a loop. Again, and again, and then again and then one more time before his wolf came to a halt and flopped onto the ground with a thud. He could not run, not anymore. He huffed and puffed, arched his back and howled into the night—a cry of hope, a cry of pain, years of damage, years of grief pouring into the night.

\------

From the unfortunate turn of events in the D.C pack house, Gabriel found himself yet again in the main pack house in Kansas City that Castiel often used for his _affairs._ Everything and business went down there, and not the right kind of business albeit there was no such thing as the _right kind_ of business in their line of profession. He worried Castiel would lose it after that night, he had not returned out of his wolf form for days, but if he was back, it meant well, nothing good which meant it was time to reason Castiel’s approach on this particular matter. 

“Looking good,’ Gabriel remarked leaning at the door of his prolific office.

He looked suspiciously….well behaved for someone who wrecked the whole D.C pack house into oblivion. Anna seemed to be still recovering from having seen her wild beast of an alpha brother in fits of rage, a sight Gabriel thought would’ve grown on her by now. Castiel looked up, his eyes more dark then they were blue.

“You have some nerve.” He muttered absent mindedly going through an odd book that Gabriel was sure about an omega. 

“I am here to help you, Castiel.” 

“Ты обманул меня.” He snarled, the alpha red flashing in his eyes as he moved towards Gabriel and Gabriel bowed his head in submission, wincing at the after effects of the alpha snarl. 

“I did not deceive you. I did what I had to do to get my brother back, and I would do it again.” His head was still bowed, but he could feel the alpha’s gaze drilling a hole into his skull. The room flared with the scent of rage that would send even the strongest of alphas running for the hills.

But he continued, “He was dead, Castiel. And you had been revived, given a new life, so I’m sorry but we wanted you to live it. _He_ would’ve wanted you to live.” 

Another heart wrenching snarl and came the answer, “You think I wanted that life? You think I wanted to live with the knowledge that he died but I was brought back to fulfill my _great destiny_? Look at me Gabriel! I walk and destruction follows, I have decades worth blood on my hands.” 

Gabriel’s heart hurt, for a moment. He knew his scent was oozing a mix of regret and helplessness when Castiel softened to some extent, breathing still a little out of control. “I begged you for the tomb, I begged, Gabriel. But you and father,’ he chuckled darkly, as much as he tried to control his scent, Gabriel whiffed such misery he wondered how Castiel even survived all this time. “You and father wouldn’t let me bring him back, you and father wouldn’t let me die either.” 

“You tried, Cas. You tried everything! There was nothing that could’ve been done at the time. It was just destiny, it had to happen.” Gabriel looked up and met his eyes, still a raw emotion in them that he couldn’t quite comprehend.

“Do not talk to me about the gods, fate, and destiny or whatever it is that you believe in. It is a load of crap, as they phrase it in English.” Upon which Gabriel almost smiled. “As the alpha, I want you to know that I will find the omega, come what may.” Gabriel nodded, there wasn’t much he could do when the alpha had already made his mind. What he could do was stick around and try to control the intensity of the operation ‘find the omega’.

“I know, but are we sure that it is _the omega?_ As much as I would like to believe that it is, how come we never heard of him all this time? And if he somehow survived and managed to hide himself all these years, his emergence, the monastery, the flower, it all seems….fishy.”

He stepped cautiously, knowing Castiel was a ticking bomb over this. Castiel heaved a sigh, looking somewhat conflicted himself.

“I don’t care about the flower, I just…want to find him.” 

“I know you do, believe me. If he’s out there, I want to find him as much as you do but we have to take into account that the flower was taken….by _the omega._ It is no small feat, Cas. If anything, it’s an act of war.” 

“Gabriel-,’ Castiel shook his head not wanting to hear any valid argument but it was Gabriel’s job to make him see. “No, that thing cannot fall into wrong hands, Castiel. You may be too emotionally invested in him but I’m emotionally invested in keeping you alive, you reckless-

“Tread carefully, Gabriel.” Came a low growl and a tint of red flashed so quick in his eyes it was barely noticeable but it was there, as always, the anger was there. “I will not be influenced, not again, not ever.” 

Gabriel unconsciously licked his dry lips, following his eyes. “I-forgive me. I just, you’re the alpha, you call the shots but t-the Krushnics will fall without you, wolf-kin and mafia both.” 

“Our priority is finding the omega, nothing else comes first.” Gabriel stiffened at the glare, a warning, and nodded his head. There was nothing he could do, the ball was not in his court anymore. Castiel will get what he wants, damn the consequences. 

“Where do we start?” Gabriel plopped on the couch looking through several books that splayed on the table, all in different languages but all on omegas. Castiel took a seat parallel to him, watching him somewhat searching for non-cooperation possibly but he knew his alpha brother trusted him, despite their differences.

“Devushka is in the den.” 

“Are you torturing her?” Gabriel grimaced. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was. 

“No, I’m hypnotizing her.” Castiel’s sarcasm game wasn’t A1 but well, at least he was trying. Gabriel let out a laugh at the seriousness of the joke. Castiel didn’t seem to waver his poker face even when joking.

“I didn’t have to do anything. She was more than…happy to ‘spill the beans’. If anything, I think I should let her go now.” 

“You’re joking right?” Gabriel deadpanned. 

“Obviously.” He replied stoically, besides it was unlike Castiel to let anyone just _go_ regardless of their blamelessness and such sudden compassion would certainly cause everyone to freak out but at that point any kind of compassion or kindness was as alien as an alien’s spaceship. Though the alpha did live by a moral code, so that was something. 

“So, you’re certain it’s him?” Gabriel eyed him, scanning his face for something, _something._

“As certain as one can be.” But there was just conviction, a fierce conviction and a little lament. “She said there was someone, with him.”

He turned to face the massive glass window, his hands falling into his pockets as he let go of his scent, wanting Gabriel to know how he felt, he always let his scent do the talking when he couldn’t. Gabriel rolled his eyes at the spiking jealousy.

“Cas, let’s not jump to conclusions here. We don’t have all the facts, hell we don’t even have one solid fact so calm it down, get your wolf together.” Gabriel could imagine his wolf’s trouble and his own, after years worth of emptiness and pain and suddenly there being hope. It was unfair. In so many ways. 

Castiel didn’t speak, didn’t turn and Gabriel felt obligated to break his brother from this sad trance.

“What are you doing with all these books? I thought you of all people would know everything there is to know about omegas.” 

“I know enough.” He said coldly. “I want to understand how an omega comes to be, how a wolf, let alone an omega can survive without a pack. So far I have not found anything realistic.” 

“Omegas are unicorns. There’s nothing realistic about them.” Gabriel said absent mindedly but realized his mistake when Castiel turned sharply to face him. “And I mean that in the most respectful way, of course. Look, no book can tell you how an omega comes to be as no book can logically explain _your_ very existence. It may not be as scientific as you would like it to be and that’s just facts.” 

Gabriel waited for a snarl, for a howl and growl but silence came in return. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ты обманул меня.- You betrayed me.  
> Devushka- The girl


	3. The Trio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've attached a small contextual kinda edit with the chap. Think I'll do it for Sam and Castiel too!  
> The edits are mine, please give credit if you're gonna use it somewhere.  
> Im trying to post daily, because its gonna be a long book and i wanna wrap it up asap!

Dean quietly watched Charlie pace around the room, tense as hell, biting her nails. He partly felt guilty for putting her through this but it was necessary. Charlie would never let him go through with the plan if she knew, and well, Sam too. So he did what he does best, lied to his brother and his only friend in the whole world. Being wolf-kin and on the run since birth teaches you a thing or two about survival. But being an omega and on the run with your little alpha brother from practically everyone taught Dean much more than just survival. 

“Dean, what were you thinking?” Charlie asked looking extremely distressed. She had done a lot for them these past few years, it was like having an annoying little sister that Dean never wanted but realized later that he needed. 

“Huh, who’re you even asking? He barely thinks.” Sam retorted, turning his face away dramatically. Dean rolled his eyes. 

“You know you both are being hormonal teenagers right now. The drama alone,’ Dean huffed trying to lighten the stiff atmosphere that was forming in the room. His sense of smell had always been better than Sam, so naturally count on Dean to know something is wrong even before something is wrong. And right now, Sam was reeking of his little alpha tantrum. 

“No, Dean. You lied to me. We had a plan, remember? We would’ve gotten the flower without risking our cover!” Sam all but yelled, half yelled technically not wanting to attract any attention from the motel management. 

“Sam, we didn't even have a snowballs chance. Who are you kidding? We’ve been trying for months. This was the only way and you know it. And look, I am fine, you are fine, and they don’t know jack.” Dean didn’t know who he was trying to convince, himself or his brother but it didn’t matter. He had the flower. “Right, Charlie?” He turned to face the red-head who didn’t look half convinced but leave it to Charlie to excessively stress about shit. 

Dean waited for her response with his arms in the air, expectantly.

“There is a 70 percent chance that…they already know. I-I’m not sure.” She said quickly closing her eyes and Dean mentally slapped himself before turning to look at Sam who had the biggest ‘ _I told you so’_ look with ‘ _bitch face #9_ ’. 

“Look, let’s not make this any more difficult than it already is. We have the flower, we stick to the plan, stay off the radar, and do what we gotta do.” Dean reasoned, because for once maybe it was just that simple but who was he even kidding? Sam rubbed his face furiously.

Apparently tricking your brother into doing a reckless but successful heist was frowned upon though it did turn into a freaking reunion with the priests. Dean hadn’t expected that, and it was downright weird that those little dudes wrapped in bed sheets were so ecstatic to see him.

“It’s not that simple, Dean. Not when the American alpha knows we stole his precious flower.” 

“Oh come on, he doesn’t even know us!” 

“You just made it easier for him!” 

“Enough!” Charlie all but screamed. Both Dean and Sam turned to face her, a little startled. “What’s done is done, there is no point in bickering like idiots.” She groaned and turned to face her little computer, typing furiously on the keypad.

Dean rolled his eyes as Sam joined her in her pursuit of whatever it was that she was looking for. Charlie and Sam, ever the nerds. 

Dean plopped on the bed looking for quarters on the side table and Sam knew better than to leave quarters anywhere in the room with magic fingers. It was the only enjoyable thing about sleeping in crusty ass motels. He groaned and laid back, resting his head on the headboard, his mind wandering to dangerous places, like his nightmares that were both dreams and reality. 

He missed her, and it was unjust how little time he got to spend with her before life hit him in the face with a baseball bat. But then he remembered how Sam doesn’t even have half the memory of her that he does so it could’ve been worse. Not remembering her at all would’ve been worse, it would have broken Dean. He unconsciously huffed when his mind wandered to the aspect of him being an omega, a being the wolf-kin practically worship so considering that it was almost laughable the kind of fugitive life he was living at the moment but then again, the special treatment would’ve made him lose his mind. 

Being an omega had its perks for Dean, like walking into a monastery that is forbidden to everyone but him, being able to shift was cool, using binding powers to get out of situations that both the brothers often found themselves in. Like all was not bad, it was not good either. The chants of _find, find, find_ in his head were unbearable at times, courtesy of his wolf. To the point he had to completely shut his wolf off, and he never liked shutting him off, it was a part of him that he adored. 

It never made sense what his wolf wanted him to find—maybe a sense of true purpose, maybe a pack, maybe just a normal good life where he doesn’t have to hide himself from the world. But he knew it was deeper than that. As long as he could remember, there was a void in him he could never fill, sure it may be his screwed up life altogether except something was missing, a part of him incomplete. It frustrated him to no end but he didn’t have the luxury to sit and sort his feelings out, he didn’t know how.

For the time being, he had to protect Sam and himself from the claws of anyone who was wolf-kin. 

“Earth to, Winchester.” He opened his eyes to see Charlie sitting at the foot of his bed, a warm smile on her face. “Too deep in there again, are we?” She placed a finger on her temple and Dean let out a huff, his train of thoughts long forgotten.

He enjoyed Charlie’s company too much, he often felt guilty for dragging her into this life. “You know me,’ he shrugged looking around and not seeing Sam. “Where is Mr. Tree?” 

“He went to check us out. We can’t stay here, in fact we can’t stay at any motel for more than 3 days.” She deduced, almost sadly. Dean felt a pang of regret in his chest, something he is used to. All he does is screw up and put Charlie and Sam in jeopardy, at least that’s what he thought. 

“I screwed up big time, dint I?” He asked, his head lowered down obviously knowing the answer to his question. 

“You know what, no you didn’t.” Dean straightened up almost immediately, his head shot up to meet her kind eyes. “You were right, it was the only way. And for the longest I thought that maybe we wouldn’t have to take the obvious route but,’ she trailed off, looking behind Dean for a moment. “You did good, Dean. But Sam worries you know, I worry.”

She finished with a smile, her hand falling on Dean’s and giving it a light squeeze. Dean smiled back, she could get to Dean. “I, um, thank you, Charlie. But I just...don’t, do you really think the alpha knows by now?” 

“Dean, he’s the freakin’ American alpha not to mention, he’s a hybrid freak. And we have the only thing that can supposedly kill him so of course, he would know by now if not the second you plucked the flower from its root.” Dean always wondered, how having such power would feel. Sure, he was also a freak of nature in a way, a sacred omega or whatever but being _the_ hybrid alpha…. _whew_. 

“It’s not like we want to off him, and even with the flower, I doubt we’d even succeed. So why don’t we,’ he trailed off a moment, contemplating if the suggestion was even worth coming out of his mouth. Charlie frowned, waiting expectantly. “Why don’t we just, you know, give him a call, tell him we don’t want to off him and that we’re just borrowing his pretty flower…I know, I know, it’s crazy but it’s a thought,’ 

Dean was ready for Charlie to throw him a bitch face and maybe scold him for being so reckless but instead came the answer,’ “Actually, that…might not be such a bad idea.” She narrowed her eyes and looked away the way she does when she’s analyzing something deeply in that nerd brain of hers and as surprised as Dean was, he was also terrified. “But, it’s…sure it’ll make our job much easier for us but…it’s too risky. We can’t…forget,’ she trailed off again, biting her nails, running deeper analysis in that super brain of hers. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “What?” 

“You do realize that the ‘hybrid’ American alpha is not American at all?” Charlie more like mocked, rolling her eyes back at Dean. “He’s Russian Mafia.” 

“Yeah, makes me wonder if he’s hot, you know?” Dean winked earning a playful shove from Charlie. Though he did wonder if he was hot, could be with all that potent power one would be smoking hot. “I mean imagine being a hybrid freak AND the Russian freakin mafia, whew.” 

“I’ve heard he’s ruthless. Who knows what else he is,’ she shrugged. “Besides, given the fact that you’re the last of Campbell-Winchester bloodline, the packs they marked rogue, he might just up and kill you both.” 

“But he can’t harm me right? I mean he obviously can, but I-I’m this rare unicorn whose death would invoke some kind of law, yeah?” 

“Well, technically yes but if he doesn’t kill you, he’s gonna wanna mate you so….” 

“Great, so he’ll either kill me or drill me. That’s….comforting.” He rubbed his light stubble, his head starting to pound a little as his hand fell on his stomach. A terrified feeling crept into his gut, a bad feeling but then he looked at his life, and wondered where and when does all this running end? It had always been the million dollar question and the answer had hardly been within reach.

\-----

“So you’re like the hot girl everyone wants to take to the prom.”

Sam chuckled revealing his dumb little dimples. Dean glared at him. It was better to have Sam be mad at him at least that way he’d keep his smart mouth shut but Sam always seemed to forgive and forget rather quickly. Charlie chortled from the backseat and quickly shut it down when Dean turned slightly to glare at her.

“I mean, he’s not wrong. I can’t imagine being this desirable. Must be exhausting, no?”

She dramatically sighed and Dean cursed under his breath before turning his attention to the long stretched empty road ahead of him. It was bad enough being an omega on the run in this economy, and it was much worse when Sam and Charlie ganged up on him like that. Not that he seemed to be complaining much when it’s Charlie and Dean who gang up on Sam so why not just go with it.

“Does hooking up with randos in baby count?” A series of groans from both Sam and Charlie were heard and Dean smirked in victory.

“Dean, stop having sex in baby. I’ve told you a thousand times, get a room or an alley!” 

“Smells like a damn whorehouse back here.” Charlie muttered rolling her eyes before getting to work on her laptop. For the life of him, Dean never knew what that girl was up to on that little machine of hers. 

“Hey, you asked for the peek behind the curtain.” Dean winked, but the reality of his hook ups in baby was pretty far from the truth. 

First, he could never get past third base, not that he didn’t want to but it was just, it didn’t feel right. His wolf would be a whining bitch about it, and in a way the whole thing gave him the impression that he would be left…unfulfilled or worse, he would leave the other person unfulfilled. Second, it was easy to pick girls up, even third base was easier although he’d have to shut his wolf up but that was no hassle. But with men, and as much as he wanted to even go to the second base, he wouldn’t dare. Why? He couldn’t really say. For the longest he thought something was wrong with him, but he didn’t have much luxury to sit and ponder upon it.

He shrugged it later, thinking it’s probably his alien omega anatomy that keeps getting in the way and that maybe someday, he’d get the chance to explore this possibility with someone he and his wolf both would be comfortable with but even he wasn’t that stupid to think he’d get to that level of comfortability with a human. And Dean would never allow himself to be with an alpha, even if his heats kill him. 

Speaking of which, his heat was painfully due at any given moment and they all needed to get to the safety of some vast forest so Dean could shift and spend the duration of his heat in his wolf form. It was easier that way, less painful and god, did he hate himself for fantasizing about a knot in him and how it would solve all his problems in a minute. But well, that was the part of his being he couldn’t really escape. 

He was snapped into reality by Sam who was waving his hand in front of his face. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just daydreaming.” 

“About?” Dean gave him his best bitch face #1. “Magic fingers.” 

“Someone’s grumpy.” Charlie muttered loud enough for him to hear and he thanked god for not giving him a sister because Charlie was annoying plenty and well Sam, was both brother and sister personified. 

“Just so you both know, I still think going to Bobby’s right away is a bad idea.” Dean said peeling his eyes off the road to give Sam and Charlie the look and getting one in return. “All I’m saying is that I don’t like putting him in danger again and again. Man has a life!” 

“Well, we don’t have a choice. Not after what you pulled, Dean.” 

“Sam is right, Dean. For all we know, we got a tail and we don’t even know it yet.” 

“More reasons for us to not go!” He whined. 

“No, Bobby can handle it alright? He would know what to do.” Dean realized they were right, more than anyone but the last thing he wanted was for Bobby to get hurt and for his heat to hit him while he’s under his roof.

“Alright look, I need to be in a forest.” He emphasized knowing Sam and Charlie would understand. “I am not spending my heat in his friggin panic room or so help me god.” Sam rolled his eyes, Charlie followed right after and Dean wondered if there was ever winning from these two.

“Dean, we cannot risk being spotted in the woods, _any woods_ and we can’t stop right now. Besides have you seen Sioux Falls forest trails? Do you really think you can spend your heat there without someone calling animal control on you?” 

“I’ll make do, Sam.” He argued. 

“No, forget it man. We’re already out of Mexico and I’m pretty sure your heat can wait until we get to Sioux Falls.” Dean groaned angrily, his wolf even angrier.

It had become a regular thing for him to spend his heats like that. Obviously, before he had opportunity, nobody knew him or of him, with minimal security he could shift in the vast forests of Alaska to spend his heats. Hell, he and Sam would shift on full moons in those forests, whenever they had occasion, whenever their wolves were whining messes. The pull of the moon was a nasty thing, especially for an untrained alpha.

He remembered Sam struggling to break through the silver chains at Bobby’s. Every month, the panic room became Sam’s home for a few days. Why it didn’t affect Dean, became much obvious by time and plenty of research he’d done whilst his time in Sioux Falls. Though he did have urges to run under the moon, but that was all it was, _urges—_ urges that he could control better than Sam because he was omega. And Sam couldn’t because he was a knothead alpha. Simple but quiet bizarre. 

Dean had later used this to his advantage in many arguments against Sam. _I’m right, because I’m your big brother and I can control my damn wolf, Samantha._ Dean smiled at the memory, Sioux Falls was more or less the only home Dean had ever known.And now after years, he was returning with a valuable stolen flower—the only thing that could kill a hybrid alpha and bring his mother back. 


	4. Nasty Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a contextual kind of an edit for Castiel. I know ya'll might be wondering why Castiels full name is different when the surname clearly is krushnic. But there's a backstory to that as well, it will be explained in further chapters.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

Castiel wiped the blood off his Scottish Dirk, sheathing it again and tucking it in his jacket. He adjusted his coat and turned to face a very bloodied and a very naked man tied to a chair—carved head to toe, blood gushing out of his wounds making a mess on the already dirty floor. He stood at ease in front of him, hands in his pocket, head tilted, a stoic smirk on his face. “отправь его обратно.” 

“Make sure they know, they’re dealing with the Krushnic Bratva, not the American equivalent of El Paco.” Nikolas growled lowly in his ear as Castiel made his way out of the warehouse. Gabriel followed, and Nikolas too shortly after and they stood a moment in silence, breathing in the fresh air and not the air of a torture house. 

Castiel closed his eyes, taking in the faint morning scent. He loved the little things, all nature—no fearful scents, no oozing and gushing blood, no bodily fluids. Just the good ol’ nature. He opened his eyes to glance at his watch that struck just a little after 7. The things he does for this family, waking up ridiculously early to torture a rival’s son who was stupid enough to send his own flesh and blood in the lion’s den to ‘talk it out’. 

“Who the fuck is El Paco?” Gabriel inquired a moment later as Castiel dug in his left pocket pulling out a pack of Ziganov. He didn’t like to think of himself a smoker, but he supposed burning through 3 packs of cigarette a day would deem him as one. 

“Oh, that ugly leader of Sinaloa Cartel.” Nikolas was one of the most avid human hater Castiel had ever come across but that was probably what made him the best at his job. Not that he himself was a human lover, but Nikolas’ hate stemmed from something deeper, just like Anna’s love for humans. No wonder they got along better than anyone. 

Gabriel let out a chuckle. “That’s El Chapo, you asshat.” 

“Yeah, wish I cared,’ he muttered looking up and blinking at the sun that had risen up the horizon in its glory. By the time he turned to face Castiel, he had burned through the first half of his cigarette. “Anyhoo, we’re expecting full co-operation of the Chechenians as of now, I believe. So why don’t we,’ 

“No, we are not.” Castiel blurted out, rolling the cigarette between his fingers before taking a long drag. Nikolas may be good at his job, but his strategic thinking was all but rusty.

“That was the son of their boss we tortured. теперь это личное.” He inhaled the smoke, feeling it roughen his throat as he watched Nikolas try to form words.

The Chechenians were humans, but they were also gangsters though they should’ve known what happens to the people who try to double-cross or even cross the Krushnic Bratva. Castiel had left many lessons in his wake for all of them to pay heed. He might enjoy killing people but he doesn’t enjoy wasting his time. 

“How personal are we talking here?” Nikolas clicked his tongue getting a bit tensed. He didn’t enjoy being corrected, and Castiel didn’t enjoy correcting his big brothers who were supposed to know better than him. 

“They may blow up one of our facilities, possibly the bar in San Diego.”

“How do you know?” His eyes widened in disbelief and a little shock. Castiel raised his brows in amusement, his throat itching for water but he would down the glass of vodka instead the first chance he’d get.

“You have to ask?” He asked, the corners of his lips quirking up as he took another drag. 

“Because it’s where we keep a lot of our money.” Gabriel intervened, finally catching on. 

“Et voila.” Castiel said before walking towards his black Alfa Romeo, it was a car befitting of the alpha—at least that’s what his father had told him though his heart was with the vintages, he politely accepted the gift not wanting to refuse _the great alpha_.

“Take care of it, Nikolas. I do not expect to lose even a penny to those Chechenians.” Nikolas gave a curt nod before turning to walk away to his own car. 

Castiel pulled the car door, his hand resting on the cold sleek roof as he blew the last of his smoke into the air before flicking the cigarette butt away. Gabriel opened the passenger door and waited, rather expectantly. “Why did you torture him when you knew they'd retaliate?”

Castiel tilted his head with a ghost of a smirk on his lips and repeated. “You have to ask? Well, I say why not?”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one who got to ride shotgun with dad on ‘ _how to be mafia_ ’ trips.” Gabriel retorted, hopping in the passenger seat. Castiel huffed and jumped right in thinking of an appropriate and short way to convey the answer to his brother. 

“Because we're мафия, that's sort of what we do,’ he replied gearing the car smoothly in reverse. “Besides, our father would get mad if he came to know I skipped all the theatrics.” And then there was the heavy screech of the tires when Castiel stepped on the accelerator. 

Gabriel chuckled darkly. He was a mischievous devil and yet he always seemed to have a hard time wrapping his head around Castiel’s methods. “I thought it was Nikolas, but you take after him more than any of us, more than you’d care to admit.” 

Castiel didn’t stray from his attentiveness towards the road, but it was a fine deduction. Some time ago, Castiel would never have thought that he’d turn into his father, but there he was. Being just like him, or maybe much worse but he couldn’t find it in himself to care anymore. 

“слишком русский из вас.” Gabriel muttered under his breath a few moments later when Castiel didn’t care much to reply. 

“You keep saying that to me, but we _are_ Russian.” He turned his eyes towards him for a split second before making a mental note to never look at Gabriel whilst arguing. He made the most pathetic of faces. 

“I know, but we’re also American now.” Castiel let out a huff. It was absurd how obsessed Gabriel was with being American, not that Castiel had any problem with that but Gabriel had a way of inflicting his thoughts and ideas over him, it had started to get annoying a long time ago but he meant well, that much Castiel knew. 

“Is it not enough that I speak English more than Russian now?” Castiel asked, feeling an amused look coming up Gabriel’s face. 

“We both know why you learned to speak English in the first place.” Castiel turned to look at him this time, a soft and fond look gilded his face. Castiel half heartedly smiled too, a gush of memories flashing in front of his eyes suddenly. 

It was a torture learning English at first, it was unnecessarily hard and Castiel whined till the end of the days. That was until he met a certain green eyed someone on his first visit to America did he realize how deeply he would regret not knowing the language. At that time of course, Russians and Americans were inseparable. Czar Krushnics half brother spawned by his father, Adam Krushnic from the womb of the first American beta Eve, became the American alpha, Cain.

In a way more or less, America was family. And Cain was a good alpha, Castiel vaguely remembered his kind and empathetic ways that his own father lacked. It was only then Castiel put his whole mind into learning English. The communication barrier was great between them but whatever he wanted to convey, his bright green eyes always seemed to understand, to be in sync—ever understanding. 

Despite the language blockade, they always met below the pines in the dead of the night. There they would run wild in the forest, play in the lake, he would teach Castiel words. Like, _food, mother, father, the moon_ etc. It was much later he came to know the boy was an omega, as rare as they came. But even if he were to be a beta or even a human, it wouldn’t have mattered—as long as he stayed and still met him below the pines where the moon shone the brightest.

And then with him gone, he was just a broken shell of the man he used to be for him, for _his omega_. Castiel hardly went down the memory lane, he could never really keep his emotions in check after what became of the strange green eyed omega, so he naturally snapped himself out before he looked anymore vulnerable in front of Gabriel than he already does sometimes. 

“Let me guess, you haven’t heard a word I said.” 

“I heard enough.” Castiel assured as he did hear Gabriel blabbering about how they should approach this operation discreetly and with care, without any mishaps. “Putting it rather plainly, you want me to not kill unnecessarily.” Gabriel exhaled and nodded a little, surprised at the straight forwardness.

Castiel looked out and up the windshield to realize he had already pulled up into the enormous driveway of the Arizona Pack house, the closest city to Mexico where the Omega was sighted. He had much unresolved and mixed feelings to deal with on the matter of finding the omega. He wanted to, more than anything, he would give his life if it meant he could just see him, once. But there were a lot of things that bugged him, a lot of questions, a lot of regret—like was he alive this whole time? Why didn’t he come to him? Why did he surface now, to take the only thing that could kill him? 

“Cas?” Gabriel called out as Castiel climbed out of the car, adjusting his shirt collars and the jacket that tightly hugged his shoulders. He turned to face him, slamming the door behind him as he loosened the first button of his shirt. 

“Speak, Gabriel.” Gabriel had a rather hesitant look on his face and Castiel wasn’t surprised. Leave it to Gabriel to announce important details at last so he figured a bomb drop was in order. 

“I need you to be level headed about this, alright pal? There is a chock full of human analysts in there, you decide who to keep and who to throw away, totally your call how you wanna run this but,’ He stopped suddenly. 

“But?” Castiel raised his brow, his right hand finding his pocket. 

“There is a Zeta in there, and believe me. She is good, like good good.” Gabriel emphasized and Castiel couldn’t help but feel a sting in his chest. A Zeta. That’s what he needed, of course. Good for his mental health that wasn't ever stable. “If there is anyone who can find him, it is her. She is a big fish, Cas. So I need you to bear with me here, alright?” 

“You invited a Zeta into our home?” Castiel asked, blankly. The mere mention of Zetas brought back many untapped memories about his time with the omega—bittersweet memories he’d rather have himself forget. 

“Well, technically one of our many homes, but uh y-yeah.” Gabriel grimaced apologetically and Castiel almost felt like strangling him in the moment but for the better he decided against it. “Look, she is not one of them okay? Just…for what it’s worth play nice.” _For him_ , was silent but he read between the lines just fine. 

Castiel shrugged pulling out a cigarette from the pack and quickly holding it between his teeth, while he shuffled his pockets for the lighter. “I will play nice,’ he agreed lighting his cigarette and taking a puff. “As long as I can.” 

It was more a warning than it was a promise but Gabriel seemed to get the memo. He knew that Castiel would playing nice just because he didn’t expect Gabriel to test his boundaries any more so than he usually does. He nodded and off they were. 

Castiel had forgotten how welcoming the alpha that was given Arizona’s domain was. They had been very old friends and there was a time Castiel gave a fuck about such relationships but the old times had been long gone. 

He climbed the marble steps of the lavish pack house, it was built around the deep woods like many of their pack houses. It enabled their pups and little ones to run free in the green without fear of tearing into a human. It was Krushnic domain, so even humans with no whiff of wolf-kin knew it was off limits. The large wooden door was opened for them and every Beta that came to eye bowed their heads in respect to the American Alpha.

Castiel hardly liked the theatrics of bowing and kneeling done outside the vicinity of torture but he had grown to just ignore it. The entrance hall was generously wide as it housed a Greek fountain and marble tiles stretched out as far as the eye could see. He made his way further, walking past the staircase and into the main hall—the tapping of his shoes startled the ones occupying the hall as many tense scents hit him all at once. 

“Balthazar.” Castiel softly smiled upon seeing him sitting on the ledge of the big white glass window. He took another drag with full force and let it stay in his chest a moment longer before exhaling.

“Now, would you look at him!” He exclaimed quickly striding towards him and pulling him in a bear hug. As unsettling he found hugs to be, Castiel hugged back. He could tell by his scent, he hadn’t changed much, still the old witty sarcastic bastard but he could also tell he had matured by the lines of age on his face.

“Haven’t you gotten handsome? The rugged gangster Romeo look seems to suit you.” He pointed at his always disheveled hair, and his open shirt buttons.

“As do you, we’re still mourning that beta from Las Vegas, are we?” He joked, and Balthazar groaned at the memory. Castiel’s eyes shifted from him, to the suited and nervous human analysts that were making small talk around the big round table. 

“Well, not my fault she fancied your backside more than mine. But yeah, that hurt.” Balthazar winced sharply as Castiel took another puff in, exhaling a little smoke from his nose. Aside from all the nervousness that was oozing from the room, a new scent made itself known. 

He turned around to see Gabriel and a young blonde woman making their way towards them. He identified the scent to be hers, a zeta—his wolf, at that point, was doing somersaults inside of him wanting to just come out and rip the source of scent to shreds. 

_Behave, we need her._

“Castiel, meet Cecily.” Gabriel introduced and his eyes fell on her face. She looked and smelt awfully…edgy. “She works in the NSA, told ya, a big fish.” 

“Sir, it’s an honor.” She extended her arm for him to shake and Castiel tilted his head, taking one last drag from his cigarette before crushing it between his fingers. Gabriel’s brows shot up and Balthazar awkwardly stood beside him. 

He decided to avoid the second hand embarrassment and took her hand. Her scent was spiking with anxiety at that point and Gabriel heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t look…well, capable of much malevolence. She was hardly cloaking her fear and she was just a young girl— a zeta but just a girl nonetheless. The screams of kill, kill, kill, in his head had subsided and his wolf seemed in control for the time being though he still didn’t trust her enough to stop bugging Castiel completely. 

“The honor is mine.” Castiel said, it came out more sarcastically than he had intended to. Gabriel and Balthazar coughed in unison and Castiel let go of her hand. “So, how are we doing this?” He asked, glancing back at the nervous pile of humans. 

Cecily cleared her throat, visibly tensed. “However you want. I take it you want fast results but a discreet approach so a single human analyst of your choosing from Balthazar’s batch would be…. I-It would help. A lot.” She kept adjusting her spectacles uneasily. On instinct his gaze turned to Gabriel who for some reason stole her glances very unsubtly. Balthazar also seemed to notice the tension and gave Castiel a silent shrug. 

Well of course his brother was involved with a Zeta—Gabriel and his forbidden hookups. 

“Then I leave it in your good hands to choose the human yourself. Make haste and come see me in the office immediately, we have much to do.” Gabriel looked rather surprised but Castiel didn’t stick around to watch the drama.

He made his way out of the hall and up the stairs to the office. It was technically his office but not so much. He didn’t like the idea of having several offices scattered in all pack houses so he only ever preferred the Kansas Pack house. Balthazar followed past the betas who half bowed their heads to Castiel. “That was something.” He muttered under his breath as Castiel flopped on the big chair.

He found himself lighting another cigarette, and reaching for the bottle of malt whiskey under the table. “You’re….conflicted.” He guessed, leaning against the wall next to the door. 

Castiel poured himself some, the cigarette remained between his fingers. “I suppose I am.” 

“Geez, it’s not even 11, Cas.” He huffed glancing at his watch. “You’re still not drinking any water?” 

Castiel chuckled taking a chug. “Hardly.” 

“Good thing you’re not human.” Balthazar reeked of worry, he was the one person who was not family but knew about everything as much as Gabriel. That was until Castiel shut everyone out, even his family. “I know you’re having second thoughts,’ 

“That’s an understatement.” He massaged his temples, taking a drag and blowing smoke every now and then. He knew he looked pathetic, miserable but he didn’t care, it was Balthazar. And his wolf had started his kill, kill, kill chants again and Castiel knew better than to ignore the feeling in his gut. 

“Look, Gabriel wouldn’t have chosen her for the job if he didn’t know she was clean. And as far as I can tell,’ Balthazar trailed off witnessing the amount of hushed contempt on Castiel’s face. 

“Gabriel is sleeping with her.” Castiel grimaced disgustingly taking one more large sip rendering the glass empty. “Ублюдок.” Castiel cursed under his breath and he would totally be lying if he said it didn’t bother him. 

“Gabriel sleeps with everyone, you know him.” Balthazar made a disgusted face too. Though Gabriel’s taste in women and men was utterly questionable. “You remember Kali? She nearly killed him.” 

“The last thing I want is a Zeta spy knowing my intimate business because Gabriel can't keep it in his pants. I can’t risk the omega’s safety, you know I can’t.” _Not after what happened,_ but Balthazar understood his concern. And his concern was more than valid. 

Castiel took a long long drag, burning through basically the whole cigarette. He was sure if he were human, he would’ve been dead a long time ago but as Balthazar said, good thing he wasn’t. “Cas, you’re underestimating yourself. Didn’t you annihilate the Zetas? You cut the head off the snake.” He reminded him and sure he had, it was all he could think of at the time. His rage was so great, so destructive even to himself that he endangered an entire species and to this day it was the one thing he didn’t regret doing. 

“I’m not underestimating myself but I’m also not going to overestimate myself, Balthazar.” He replied leaning into his chair, the lit cigarette still in his fingers and the empty glass was now full. He felt no amount of alcohol and smokes would calm his nerves. 

Balthazar heaved a loud sigh. “Alright then, consider me a stalker. You will know where she goes, where she sleeps, who she fucks…everything.” Castiel smiled at him, and nodded. Balthazar was the alpha he could trust out of basically every alpha that was under his rule in America. 

“She goes out of her way, пустить пулю ей в голову.” Castiel ordered and Balthazar nodded with a chuckle. 

“Why don’t you just bind her?” Balthazar suggested taking a seat on the chair parallel to him. Castiel had already given it a thought, and considering who he was his binding was powerful even compared to his father. “You know a lot of alphas are not born with this privilege, why not use yours?” 

“It is no solution. The binding will fade eventually, what then?” He asked, the malt washing down his throat with a sting. “I cannot keep binding her so I need to be able to trust her.” 

Castiel had given every aspect much thought. A lot could go wrong, the omega could refuse, he had every right to resent him, enough to steal the flower that could harm him but Castiel didn’t care. It was punishment enough that he was living. Just seeing him alive one last time would give his futile life a meaning so as one would expect he didn’t want to sabotage the omegas safety when Cecily’s binding would fade and she would decide to open her big mouth to the ones who would have and hurt the omega. 

Therefore he needed to be able to trust her. And if not, probably put a bullet in her. 

“And can you?” Balthazar asked matter-of-factly. Castiel heaved a sigh exhaling the last of his smoke into the air. He had burned through more than 3 cigarettes in a matter of minutes and that really showed where his head was at.

“No, but I will kill her slow if need be.” Balthazar didn’t say a word—just watched the dark expression on Castiel’s face. 

There was a knock moments later and Balthazar dragged his chair on its heels to face the entrance. In came strolling Cecily, Gabriel and a young Asian boy whose nametag read Kevin. Castiel straightened, crushing the cigarette in the ash tray and lit another one. 

“Ah, Kevin!” Balthazar exclaimed and Kevin fidgeted awkwardly with his hands. “Good choice, the boy is sharp.” He gestured at Cecily, she nodded in acknowledgement. 

If Balthazar approved then Castiel had no reason to doubt, considering he specialized in things like these. It was his responsibility and duty to the pack and the mafia to have a team of best hackers and experts ready to remove the many technological hurdles in their line of work. 

“Дай мне минутку с ней,’ Castiel rose, directing his attention towards Gabriel. But he could feel Kevin’s heartbeat starting to pound in his chest, and Cecily looked visibly tensed. 

Gabriel’s eyes widened for a split second before he opened his mouth to protest. “Моя альфа,’ 

“наедине.” Castiel emphasized and Gabriel nodded his head and glanced at Cecily who gave him a small smile, confusion spiked in his scent but he obeyed and gestured Kevin and Balthazar to follow him. “Balthazar will stay.” That angered Gabriel a little, he always was a jealous bastard. 

The door closed after them, and Castiel’s eyes found Cecily’s. “Would you like a drink?” Castiel asked, pouring himself his fifth? Sixth? He’d lost count. Cecily smiled but shook her head, adjusting her posture from foot to foot. “Do you speak Russian?” 

“No, but I fancy it.” She admitted. 

“You’re an American Zeta.” Castiel pointed out, sipping from the glass in hand making a non verbal point that how could _she know_ Russian. Her eyes shifted from Balthazar to Castiel, an honest uneasiness in the air. 

“What’s left of them, yes.” 

“Do you know your history, Ms. Cecily?” Castiel asked, walking around the table to close a little distance between her and himself. 

“I know about the war. I’m aware of the conflict that still continues between you and the few peaceful zeta packs in existence.” She adjusted her spectacles, uneasily meeting Castiel’s eyes as the cigarette hung low on his lips between his teeth.

“Then you understand why I’m having trouble trusting you with such a delicate operation?” Castiel leaned back against the table just beside Balthazar, exhaling the smoke—his cigarette now between his fingers. “See, I don’t like Zetas.” 

“I doubt anyone likes them.” Balthazar added causing a little more tension to rise to the surface. “And for good reason.” 

Cecily gulped, her hand finding her other hand to fidget with but she heaved a loud sigh gaining a little confidence. “I have no reason to betray you, my alpha. I have no ties with any packs, I don’t know what it means to be a zeta.” 

Castiel glanced at Balthazar a moment before turning his eyes on her, his free hand finding his pocket as he leaned against the table. She looked…candid like her own words meant something to her. “I have a life here, and I’m thankful to you for that. Despite your _reasons,_ you gave me a chance even if it was at Gabriel’s whim. Give me a chance to prove myself to you.” 

Castiel tilted his head, a little stunned at her generous and humble words. Balthazar nodded and shrugged in acknowledgement. 

Castiel’s wolf was quiet as well, so that was something. He looked at her soft features, her nervous posture and realized maybe she was telling the truth. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to trust her completely, he could never trust a Zeta even though he'd loved one, once. 

He pushed himself off the table, nodding his head. A little leap of faith was maybe what he needed. He placed the glass on the table, putting his half smoked cigarette between his teeth again and reached inside his jacket taking his Yarygin Pistol out of his shoulder holster. 

Cecily flinched a little but held her ground. 

“I believe you.” He didn’t, not really. He waved the gun at her and placed it on the table where she could see. “But know there is no heaven waiting for you if, and when you betray me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> отправь его обратно- send it back/send him back  
> теперь это личное- now its personal  
> мафия- mafia  
> слишком русский из вас- awfully russian of you  
> Ублюдок-bastard  
> пустить пулю ей в голову- put a bullet in her head  
> Дай мне минутку с ней- give me a moment with her  
> Моя альфа- my alpha  
> наедине-alone


	5. Heat of the Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the sam edit since this chap is in his POV.  
> And I'm purposefully taking this story slow, leaving cliffhangers, im building up to it so it all makes sense in the end.  
> Besides, starting a story is easy, keeping it going and ending it is the hard part, but lets see where it takes us.

It was no less a miracle that their journey from Mexico to South Dakota was without incident—except the part where a lady accidentally lightly scratched the impala with her Prius. Dean had been such a drama queen about it but Sam and Charlie were quick to save the day before Dean could attract people in broad daylight with his morbid love for Baby. 

Baby was the only constant thing in their lives—through all the horrors of moving around the country with your omega brother, it was the only thing that stuck around, probably because Dean wouldn’t let her go. No matter the damage, Dean could always fix her. 

They never knew home so it became it. 

Anyhow, Dean’s heat was pretty much on edge when they reached Sioux Falls. As much as he was trying to soldier his way through the symptoms, his scent was burning through Sam’s brain. And worry made home in his chest. Dean hadn’t spent many of his heats…confined. It was a norm for him to let his wolf run the course and ride shotgun through the duration of it but ever since they had come to know about the myth that was Valerianella Affinis, the phoenix flower that could resurrect wolves—Dean became hell bent on finding it but also careful with his shifting habits. 

Much like with Baby, he had a hard time letting their mom go and even though Sam didn’t remember much of her, he longed for her. 

Bobby thought it was what it was, a myth but Dean had said, “ _We spent our lives hiding in the shadows, running from our own kind, we deserve a little happiness! Dammit!”_ And so it began—the hunt for the extinct flower and that’s where Charlie came in. 

She helped them get on and off grid, gave them new solid identities every once in a while, cleaned up their technological messes and helped them dive deeper into the world of wolf-kin from a distance. Since they were completely cut off from everything, Bobby and Charlie were the reason they knew what they knew and it still wasn’t enough. There were still things they didn’t know, and Sam didn’t like not knowing. 

Dean, on the other hand, had his own issues that he didn’t raise. Sam knew his nightmares were getting as vivid as day, it freaked Dean out but not enough to talk to Sam about it. But he wouldn’t be Dean if he talked about it. 

“You okay?” Charlie slammed the trunk shut startling Sam out of his thoughts. “Boy you and your brother daydream too much. It a family thing?” 

Sam chuckled. “No, I was just….thinking. Where’s Dean?” 

“Already inside, let’s go.” She grabbed his elbow leading him away from the car, her bag slung to her shoulder and Sam’s to his own. 

Sam smiled as his eyes roamed the old junkyard that was Bobby’s garage. He hadn’t felt familiarity in such a long time, it made him somewhat content in the moment. But his worries and worst case scenarios still pooled into his chest, he didn’t know if there was a way around this muddle. 

Charlie had already picked up heavy mafia movement in Arizona and other cities that bordered Mexico, which could only confirm one thing. They knew. And they were circling Mexico for answers. 

“Sam! It’s so good to see you, boy!” Bobby piped pulling him into a tight hug the moment he stepped through the door. He smiled into the familiar scent of spices and whiskey, brought back a chunk load of memories, good and bad both but he was happy to see him. 

“You too, Bobby. Hope you’re staying out of trouble.” 

“Not as much as you boys.” He retorted glancing back at Dean who was leaning against the sink smiling like an idiot with a bottle of beer in his hand already. 

“Oh, this is Charlie, Bobby. Bobby, Charlie.” He introduced and they shook hands awkwardly. 

Ever since Charlie had decided to help them full time, it was all crappy motel rooms, cold showers and microwaved meals. It was sort of sad, Charlie like themselves was an orphan so when she heard that there was a chance they could get their mother back, she was more than ready to assist them. Besides, her adventurous spirit had gotten the best of her.

 _Whoa, you mean living life on the run like 007? Sounds swell!_

The first few days, she was ecstatic, in her element of being a cool hacker like in the movies. Until she encountered well built firewalls in the Russian system that even she couldn’t seem to break. It was a good well minded challenge for her, until it wasn’t. It ate at her, and Sam and Dean both regretted getting her into the mess in the first place. But she pulled through eventually—accepted that breaking into a system as complex as the Russian was a job difficult for even able individuals like herself.

She sure compensated for it by teaching Sam each and everything she knew. Sam was even able to learn a trick or two by himself that shook Charlie. _You’re such a natural! You’re gonna give me a run for my own money!_ She told Sam, Sam had swelled with pride and Dean said, _nerds,_ and rolled his eyes. 

“We have a situation.” Dean began as they gathered in Bobby’s study. After all the home cooked food, beer and quality time with a father figure, it was time to get back to the scary reality that the Russian Mafia may be onto them after all. 

“What is the status?” Bobby asked. 

“Well, we have the flower and the Russians know.” Sam replied giving Dean the stink eye. “Thanks to Dean of course, for using his omega privileges.” 

“Hey, come on now.” Dean protested. 

“Oh, and also, Dean’s heat is due anytime now.” Upon which Dean glared daggers into Sam’s skull. 

“It’s no problem, I’ll manage.” Dean shook his head at Bobby; Charlie just awkwardly fidgeted beside Sam. 

“If by managing you mean, shifting then I have news for you, son.” Bobby raised his brows but Dean already seemed to get the idea. 

“No, that’s okay. I-I’ll use your panic room.”

Dean paced around not meeting anyone’s eye, he never liked talking about his heat with anyone not even Sam. And Sam tried to get him to talk having been with him through many. He read books upon books, scourged the web back when Dean hadn’t discovered that shifting helped. Sam even suggested he take oral contraceptives but Dean had been quick to shut that idea out. He wondered why for the longest, it wasn’t like with the quality of life they were living, Dean would want a pup of his own and even if he did, the big question was how? 

“Anyways, we have the flower, what now?” Sam’s shoulder rose in uncertainty because really, what now? 

“Well, there aint no manual for these kinda things but the flower is the first step in resurrection of any wolf-kin. Now, I’ve had my feelers out for some time and I’ve come up with…a lot.” Bobby heaved a disappointed sigh as Sam glanced at Dean. 

“But that’s a good thing, right? Hit us.” Dean huffed, his hands finding another beer from the cooler. 

“What I found were a lot of resurrection spells and the only ingredient that was recurring in every single one of them was the flower.” 

“So we have no authentic spell?” Sam sighed, his shoulders drooping low in defeat. 

“Great.” Dean muttered disappointingly, taking a chug of his beer. 

“But I might know someone who can not only give us the authentic spell but the right ingredients too.” And the other shoe had dropped with that as Dean grinned and Sam let out a chuckle. Leave it to Bobby to take the solution out from the lion’s mouth. 

“Knew you’d come through!” Dean clapped on Bobby’s shoulder enthusiastically, Charlie and Sam smiled at each other. 

“Don’t get too happy. It aint gonna be easy.” 

“Well, easy aint our way either.” 

“Now, I personally don’t know the woman but I know of her. One thing you boys should know about her is that, she’s wolf-kin. I did some digging. Apparently she migrated here from Scotland in the late 1960’s. Our boy Czar Krushnic really did a number on Scotland back in the day.” 

“Wait, you mean there was another civil conflict? Other than against the Zetas or whoever they are, _were_?” Dean raised the question. 

“Boy, Czar Krushnic had a bone to pick with a lot of countries. But their hostility against Zetas was…different. It was almost justified if you ask me.” Bobby huffed. “And that aint something you'll find on the internet.” He glanced at Sam and Charlie to make his point. 

“Yeah, there isn’t much on the web about them considering the mafia angle and that really is something.” Charlie replied. “They have to have a cunning crew.” 

“Believe me, they do. I went hand to mouth to get my hands on the information I have. Even the humans they sire don’t slip, and they sire a lot of humans.” 

“Okay, back to the civil conflict.” Sam said eagerly, there was much he wanted to know. The whole pack thing intrigued Sam a little too much. Having been on the road with no next of kin other than his brother had been no cake-walk, a part of him longed to experience what it would be like to be a part of a pack. 

“It appears that Russian blood was spilled in Scotland and it initiated _an eye for an eye_. And well, you can imagine the rest. Anyhow, Scotland became inhabitable for the royalty so Rowena migrated here. She’s been here ever since.” 

“Okay, so this Rowena chick is royalty? And if she migrated in the 1960’s, wouldn’t she be toast by now? How is she in Russian domain?” Dean made a valid point. 

“Well, according to the grapevine she’s a seer, dabbled in dark human magic or so I hear, as a result her immortality wouldn’t be too surprising. Not to me. I’ve seen some fresh hell on my conquests. And to answer your last question, the Russians took America in 1996 only, so it’s possible they don’t know she exists or they just don’t care.” Bobby replied casually. Sam was impressed to say the least. 

“Wait, the Russians took America by force right?” Sam wondered if there were wolf-kin history books. How interesting would it be to read a complete different and bizarre history than that of human history. 

“They took it by _the right of war,_ not exactly by force. It was theirs to claim.” 

“Because Alpha Cain was Czar Krushnic’s half brother.” It was more a question than it was a statement. 

“Yes, Russia and America were joined at…well, everything. But then Cain was betrayed by his brother Abel, and Abel was a beta. He had no right to the throne, so Azazel took it in his stead with the help of Zetas. Zetas were bad mothers, they internally controlled America with their screwed up religious beliefs until the Russians came.” 

“What happened to Abel? I mean Abel was also Czar Krushnic’s half brother right?” 

“As far as I know, Czar Krushnic killed everyone. You know Russians, they shoot first and don’t even bother with the questions.” Sam’s brows furrowed, processing such peculiar knowledge. He wondered how Bobby was so chill about such horrors.

“Okay, wait. You said Czar Krushnic went to war with Scotland around 1960, and then he took America in 1996, right?” Bobby nodded. “And he’s still alive?” Bobby nodded again.

“As far as I can tell, he’s kicking.” 

“How?” Dean jumped in. It was clearly as frustrating to Dean as it was to Sam to not know jack about their own history. “Are they immortal too or what?”

They never asked these questions growing up, and Bobby probably didn’t know then. They were so awfully human, they never thought they’ll have to do anything with the wolf-kin angle of their family. Which was bullshit, it wouldn’t have been such a shock if they had at least some idea. 

“Brace yourself boys,’ Bobby smirked before he began. “According to my own understanding and research, the Russian genetic code is superior to that of many other nations. Take the Krushnics for instance, they dominated the Russia since…I don’t know, we’re talking centuries here. And statistically, Russia births alphas and betas in equal ratios which is something. Czar Krushnic is a perfect beast of an example here, he spawned a hybrid alpha and you’ve got to have a very strong recessive gene on both sides to do that.” 

Sam was dumbstruck, it was all too fascinating for his liking. Russians may be out to kill them, or him at least but that didn't make them any less fascinating. 

“So in English, they’re immortal?” Dean asked, and Bobby rolled his eyes. Sam was still processing. 

“They’re not immortal, but they age slow, which means they live longer.” 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean muttered loudly but Sam’s brain was concocting more questions by the second. 

“So this is why, wolfsbane cannot kill him. Do you think silver does anything?” Sam asked clearly thrilled earning an eye roll from Dean. 

“Can’t say, maybe it does. Maybe it doesn’t.” Bobby shrugged.

“Do you think Dean will age slow too?” He blurted out abruptly. 

“WHAT.” Dean made a face. 

“Hm, could be. Omegas and Hybrids kinda go hand in hand with the rarity. They say every leap year, the Zetas sacrificed ten virgins and a new born child to appease Rhiannon & Lug, the Celtic gods and in return they apparently bestowed them with a piece of themselves, an omega.”

“I’m a piece of two douchebag gods? No sir, no way.” 

“Zetas are some cold bastards.” Charlie muttered, her face disgusted and Sam and Dean both shared that with her. “The war against them really was reasonable, huh.” 

"They sure have nerve for wolves who are not even proper wolves." Dean scoffed.

“Well, that’s what I heard about them so either it’s a myth or centuries old practice I don’t know, but yes they were some sons of bitches.” 

“Bobby, how do you know this stuff?” Sam questioned. 

“I was friends with your parents obviously I know a trick or two—the rest I figured on my own. Had to get my hands on a witch and boy was she ready to sell out her ‘ _coven sister,_ ’ nasty business these witches.” Bobby grimaced. And Dean tensed at the mention of their parents.

Sam never had the privilege of meeting his mother Mary, though he had but a single memory of her. A made up memory he cherished in his head that spawned from the few pictures they had of her. Dean often told him about her, how kind, stunning and big hearted she was, his memories of her but none of those good memories included John.

All Sam knew was that John was murdered by Azazel, the last American alpha before Russians painted America with his blood. There was clearly a long story behind it all, but Dean was never ready to talk about it and it wasn’t apparently Bobby’s place to tell him the truth. Sam stopped asking, stopped pushing Dean into telling him the truth. Because sometimes he got the impression that even Dean wasn’t sure about the whole story. 

“Alright, so where do we find her?” Dean asked.

“I can find her.” Charlie offered. “Should be easy since she lives like a human.” 

“Problem solved.” 

“Okay, but how do we know she would even want to help us?” Sam asked, doubtful of trusting a wolf-kin, let alone someone who was a witch too. 

“Dean here can use his omega privileges again. Trust me, being an omega is like being the hot girl everyone wants to f-

“Bobby, don’t objectify me!” Dean screamed and the room roared with laughter. Sam was damn near on the floor, Charlie was holding onto the nearest chair for support, Dean was gritting his teeth and Bobby had a shit eating grin on his face. 

“Just sayin.” Bobby held up his hands in surrender and Dean was still gritting his teeth with his arms crossed now. 

“Are ya done?” Dean asked through his teeth, dead eyes fixated on laughing messes that were Sam and Charlie. They straightened up quick and nodded their heads, glancing at each other. Sam made a mental note to bring that situation up in the near future. “Good, get to work now. Find us the witch!” 

Charlie was quick to jump the gun, got her laptop out and started scourging the web for info on one Rowena, witch and wolf-kin both apparently. Sam didn’t even know it was possible, but he’d learned pretty quick that nothing was truly impossible especially considering that they were trying to bring their dead mother back. That changed the whole meaning of the word impossible. 

Sam wandered around the house, reminiscing his time there with Dean when they were kids. A wave of nostalgia washed over him when he saw their initials carved into one of Bobby’s book shelf. He let out a silent huff as his fingers traced the now splintery wood. They had carved their initials all over Bobby’s place, it was a game for them back then.

He smiled at the memory and realized how little he remembered about his childhood; it was always Dean looking out for him, Bobby teaching him to read and write, sending him to school—being the father John never got to be. Sam didn’t mind anymore, he was thankful for Bobby. That he even got to go to school. Dean was homeschooled mostly when he wasn’t working with Bobby in the garage. He wasn’t much inclined towards studying but Sam wondered if Dean resented him for being an alpha because he sure resented himself for it.

His inner monologue was interrupted when a potent scent of Dean’s heat flared in the air. His alpha instincts spiked protectiveness as they do when Dean is in distress. It had always been something he couldn’t quiet shake. The alpha part of his brain had always been defensive when it came to Dean. 

He discovered it the first time just after he presented. He was 8 and Dean would’ve been no more than 12 or 13. For Sam it wasn’t one of his brightest moments, but in his defense he was a fresh untrained alpha and untrained alphas are risky, how he got past that stage without any more incidents that he always wondered. 

That day Dean was to run an errand for Bobby and Sam had rubbed his heels on the ground stubbornly—just that once Dean agreed to let him tag along to a distant hardware store. To keep the long and bloody story, short—a strange man started following them around the store while they picked up the supplies they needed. Dean had taken note but acted oblivious but Sam watched him, his hungry eyes, his crinkled forehead as he smiled at them with his dirty teeth.

Sam’s wolf had stirred in him. The unceasing chants of _Protect, Protect, Protect. Kill, Kill, Kill. Bad, Bad, Bad,_ took over his mind. 

Dean was quick to sense his discomfort, and in a jiffy he was dragging Sam out of the store having not even bought what they came for. And much to their dismay, the man had followed them to the parking lot and he walked slow towards them, like circling his prey but what he didn’t realize was that they were the hunters and he was the prey. 

Before the man could come any closer, Sam’s wolf had taken control of the situation rendering him shotgun in his own head.

It was too far gone for even Dean to handle it, he barely remembered a thing but when he turned back, he could taste flesh and blood in his mouth. Bobby was immediately called, the corpse…or what was left of the corpse was buried deep into the ground but not Sam’s shame—it would hang over his head for years to come. And in a twisted way it still did.

He was a bad guy, and his instincts to protect the omega had gotten the best of him, but yet, nobody deserved to die like that.

The bubble of that memory popped when he headed back to hall and saw Dean writhing on the couch, mid nap. He was sleeping, and didn’t even know his heat had come in full blows. 

“Dean, hey, wake up! Dean!” Sam shook him but he was too deep in his nightmare to care. And it wasn’t the first time this was happening. Why Dean wouldn’t talk about it was beyond him. “Dammit Dean!” He was burning up and sweating waves, his grey shirt now drenched. 

“What is going on?” He heard Bobby’s worried voice from behind. Dean had started shaking now, his scent stronger than ever, burning through Sam’s nostrils. 

“He’s going in heat.”

\-------

A woozy feeling enveloped Dean, like his limbs would give out any moment, his breath came in short and heavy. His skin burned hot and his sweat trickled down….well…..everywhere. It didn’t take him long to realize that he was in the panic room, the smell of iron gave it away when his eyes refused to adjust from the level of water that was coming out of them. 

A sharp contraction seared through his abdomen, he felt his organs melting, like they were eating each other. He groaned into his sweat stricken pillow and curled himself into a ball, his contractions coming and going as they please. He mentally cursed his wolf who was trying to scratch and break free but Dean knew that wasn’t an option _. Hold on, you son of a bitch. Just this once, stay! Endure! You can do it, you’ve had worse._

Sweet talking was hardly working and his brain was too mush for any other kind of talking, so he pulled himself up and off the now wet bed, sweat and slick mixed. He grimaced, feeling his mouth dry and his eyes fell on the table. A jug of water, a bottle of whiskey, and a ton of painkillers casually set on it. “Sammy, you’re the best.” He mumbled under his breath as he limped towards the table, his cramps still fresh like a festering wound inside of him. 

He was in no position to care how many tablets he downed, but the feeling of water going down his throat was immaculate. He didn’t realize one could be that thirsty without even knowing. So after he got done hoarding painkillers in his system, his hands moved towards the bottle of whiskey. He chugged a sip or two from the bottle and set it down, cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes shifted to the other side of the round room and found a bag of clothes. Sam was prepared more for his heat than he ever was and he couldn’t soldier through his heat, that much he knew. 

He changed into fresh clothes that didn’t smell of sweat and slick, throwing his dirty ones in the corner. If he had shifted, the dirty clothes, the sweat, the slick wouldn’t have been a problem and he didn’t have it in him to keep changing his clothes and sheets every hour, not at the peak of his heat. 

The painkillers however had started to take effect, a little of his pain subsided but a lot was still present. However it was bearable to say the least. He plopped on the chair near the table—his hands finding the bottle of whiskey again as his mind wandered to his dreams. His strange dreams. He’d have them since…as long as he could remember dreaming. They always were vivid, like he was there as it all happened. 

Blue eyes, the bluest he’d ever seen. A scent. A strong distinct scent of the sea, with a hint of honey in it—an irresistible scent that burned through him in his dreams, so real that he could taste it on his tongue when he woke up. He saw the big pine trees sometimes, and a majestic wolf with shiny red coat, an alpha strutting towards him. Even his eyes had been red. He was scary, in every sense, but a feeling of warmth and shield enveloped him. 

He felt everything and not enough. He wanted to make sense of it, he needed to make sense of it but they were just dreams. At the end of the day, however they made him feel, they were but dreams. He wondered if the longing in his chest had something to do with his dreams. Maybe his omega subconscious was trying to tell him something but it all seemed too made up, like a trick his mind was playing to make up for the life he wouldn’t have. A mate, a family. 

It pained him, his grasp on the bottle tightened, the hole in his chest seemed to be getting bigger and deeper. And then there was a sound of a sharp crunch and he watched the bottle shatter into pieces, the droplets of liquid draining urgently and the edges of glass pierced his hand. 

He watched his hand, bloody, a piece or two of glass wedged in it—a burning hot desire seared in him, like all his hurt, his pain, all the frustrating questions he didn’t have answers to, they finally melded in him—the spoil of them all. The blue eyes flashed in his mind, an untold story, and the desire to fill the hole, the void burned through him. His eyes watered, he could no longer bear the pain he thought was bearable, it was all too much. He found himself on the floor in between all that shattered glass, his wolf howling and snarling and screaming in him. _Find, find, find. Free, free, free._

A stinging sensation originated in his palms and knees as he flopped into the shards, trying to ground his wolf to _stay, stay, stay._ He twisted and turned, arched his back, bore his fangs, his claws visible as he tried to win a lost battle with his wolf. _NO, STAY!_ He screamed and just when he thought things couldn’t get any more out of control, he growled loud and his eyes flashed a shiny yellow altering his vision into wolf.


	6. Silver Omega

“We did circle Mexico, but that’s all we could do.” Gabriel shrugged.

It was bad enough that they had to even circle Mexico. Castiel never liked subtle approaches but Gabriel was trying to avoid a conflict with the Mexican Alpha. 

“The Mexican Alpha respects me, he would’ve seen reason.” Castiel replied, looking down the clear glass to see tiny cars and hustling people from up where he stood. 

He thought of the world looking down and saw how fleeting life was for other people, whereas for him, not so much—every year had felt like a decade to him ever since the omega. Life drastically changed, they fought wars, wolf and human both, and yet he stood there for what felt like centuries. Immovable because he cannot die—no one would let him. 

“The Mexican alpha consummated his mating in front of his pack, so you can imagine the kind of religious that dude is.” Upon which Castiel heaved a disgusted sigh, his eyes followed the setting sun and the hues of orange around it. 

The Mexican angle clearly was a dead end. They couldn’t get in Mexico, not even sneak in without sounding the horns of war. And even if they could, the monastery business was nobody’s business. The priests wouldn’t talk, the Mexicans didn’t care what went down there, so he realized how easy it was for the omega to snatch the flower. It wasn’t like they could stop him, he was most welcomed there. 

He tilted his head at the view, admired the darkness that took over the sky slowly. The vast stretch of land lit up beneath him, street lights, car lights, and what not. And to stand there and witness it, felt….majestic to say the least. Say what you may about him, Castiel loved the nature. If he was not what he was, he would’ve chosen a calling close to nature. 

His mind dared step in dangerous territory—the pine trees, green eyes, soft and inviting lips, the wide stretch of sky that they laid beneath, and then his scent. Freesia. Rain. Mud. A raw wound opened in his chest, a longing so dominant it made him want to bleed the world. Again. 

He closed his eyes tightly, exhaled and inhaled deeply but at the back of his mind his wolf howled and howled and howled—and he let him. His mind drifted moments later, when he heard Gabriel call from behind. He walked slowly to the tufted black 4 seater where his coat rested, and poured himself a glass of whatever Gabriel was drinking. He gulped down, well, wine. Of some kind. 

“Why are you drinking wine?” Castiel deadpanned, and leaned back into the sofa. 

“What? I like wine. It’s classy.” He replied and Castiel mentally rolled his eyes. “I think its Anna’s.” He confessed. 

“Anna keeps wine here? She comes often?” He asked, rather sheepishly. Not even knowing the whereabouts of his only sister. And it wasn’t like Anna could have any business in the building, it was one of the Mafia headquarters for them—much like a front to something devilish. 

“She does, comes to check in on us.” Gabriel took another sip and Castiel have had enough of the sweet nectar. He lit himself a cigarette and let the sweetness turn to ash in his mouth. 

“Sometimes I wonder if she even is our sister.” He muttered, to himself not expecting a reply from Gabriel. Anna was a sweet girl with a screwed up family, and in the long run, he didn’t know where it’d end for her. 

Castiel leaned back in the comfort of the soft foam and the air around him turned heavy with smoke. Gabriel was texting furiously and Castiel could tell on instinct it was Nikolas or Ishim. Ishim was like a child, how he was still alive being wolf-kin and Mafia escaped Castiel. But he wasn’t complaining, he wouldn’t trade his siblings for the world. Maybe Michael, but not the others. 

“In the other news, Chechenians are going to war.” Gabriel rubbed his temples. Castiel’s head turned towards the door, eyeing Kevin and Cecily who sure were working hard. Castiel hadn’t filled them on everything yet, but just enough to get the search started. 

“It is not war, until I say it is.” Castiel said curtly. “What did Nikolas do?” He added. 

“They attacked San Diego. He rounded up the men, shot them in the street.” Castiel smiled, his arm stretching at the back of the sofa. “It will make the papers.” He said gravely concerned about Nikolas’ approach but Castiel knew Nikolas would have never taken a delicate advance anyway. 

“ _Gang Violence in San Diego: 8 dead_.” He mocked. “Of course, it will.” And Gabriel rolled his eyes in disbelief. 

“Lucky for us, he shot only 6. A few escaped.” 

“замечательный. Always leave a few alive to tell the tale and set the example in stone.” Castiel smirked and the amount of times Gabriel rolled his eyes at him had to be in the lower thousands. 

But for what it was worth, the Chechenian problem was solved for now. It would take them months to regroup if they somehow manage to escape Nikolas who was cleansing America of Chechenians for good. As much as Castiel enjoyed the game of cat and mouse, he had his hands full and he didn’t intend to drop the mission at hand to sate his need for violence. 

Abruptly, the door of his office was pushed open and popped in Cecily’s head. “Castiel, you’re gonna wanna see this.” She said urgently, as Castiel’s heart thumped in his chest. He gave Gabriel a look and was quick to follow her out into the vast hall with all the empty cubicles. Gabriel followed close behind. Cecily walked to the far corner, where she’d set her machines up. The tapping of her heels almost impatient, and Castiel shared that with her.

“What is it?” Gabriel asked when they came to stop near the desk. Castiel eyed the screens, and Kevin, waiting for them to go on before his intolerance gets the best of him.

“Well, like you asked, I put my system out to analyze any animal control reports from the past few years that even remotely resemble being that of a wolf and…well, the system deemed them to be…unremarkable. But then Kevin suggested that we rather put the system in analyzing the present day reports. It was relatively an unhelpful idea, right?” She rambled on. Castiel turned his head slightly and threw daggers at Gabriel who apologetically shrugged, he turned the same look towards Cecily and she stuttered, stopping dead mid sentence. 

“Uh, I-I’ll get to the point. Kevin show them.” She encouraged. 

“Alright, so this woman from South Dakota,’ the unbothered Asian kid began turning the computer screen towards them and Castiel turned his unwavering attention to the drivers license of the lady in her late 30’s. “Three days ago she reported seeing a gigantic white wolf while she was camping with her family. The animal control obviously took it as a joke, because there is no known population of wolves in South Dakota.” 

“Now if I hadn’t run a random quick background check on this woman, I wouldn’t have known that she has a website,’ Kevin typed with speed on the keypad and Castiel waited, head tilted, and hands in his pocket. “Where she posted a video of her encounter with the said white wolf.” 

Kevin played the video on the big screen as Castiel’s eyes followed the movements of the woman’s night vision camera. It started by her showing the camp, her husband grilling and her 2 kids playing. And as she walked a couple feet away to explore the wilderness, she heard rustling, more rustling and her heavy breathing enveloped the hall. Castiel watched perplexed, and when her camera sharply moved from where another rustling sound came from, the massive wolf came in view. For a moment, for more than a split second but it was there and it was a sight. 

Castiel froze when Kevin paused the video. A thousand emotions running through him, all at once—his eyes widened, his lips parted as he just stared at the wonder. But it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. He told himself when his wolf stirred in him. 

“That is no white wolf.” Gabriel muttered, loud enough that only Castiel heard. 

“Нет, это невозможно,” Those were the only words that left Castiel’s lips. He repeated and turned to Gabriel who was in disbelief as well. 

Cecily stepped forward. “Sir, I- um, I know it’s not my place to question anything but as far as I know, that’s…a silver wolf.” She said hesitantly, standing much closer to Castiel now who was still wrapping his mind around it. “And they say a silver wolf is an omegas wolf.” 

The moment those words left her lips, Castiel knew it was real. And not some hallucination, not some dream. “The omega couldn’t shift.” He said, not in reply to her but to ground himself. 

Cecily’s brows furrowed in confusion as Castiel walked back and forth a little, rubbing his stubble in thought. In question.

“Castiel, snap out of it.” Gabriel dragged him to the corner, gave him a firm shook. “We have a situation here, this is no time for a psychotic breakdown. Focus.” 

Castiel heaved a loud sigh, exhaling all the tension that was building up in his chest and walked back to the desk. “Can you remove this video?” Cecily and Kevin exchanged proud looks and nodded.

“This video never existed, clean the whole internet if you have to but no one should be able to get their hands on this, understand?” He understood the power that the internet held, if this video were to fall and spread among the wolf-kin, it would straight up be catastrophic. He was not ready to face neither his father nor the council, or jeopardize the omegas safety. 

“Secondly, get this lady’s address for me and don’t breathe a word of this to anyone.” He pointed at both Cecily and Kevin. “I mean it.” He emphasized and they nodded frantically and got to work. 

Castiel felt a pang of hopelessness in his chest—he knew it was him, in his bones, in his heart, in his mind. The girl had said, green eyes and freckles and Castiel didn’t need to hear anything else. The omega couldn’t shift, he knew that. But he was too far gone to give up, too far gone for the omega to not be him. It would kill Castiel.

\----------------

Gabriel didn’t know what Castiel had planned to do with the fresh information that nearly broke his noggin. It was no doubt, groundbreaking. It changed a lot and the possibility that the omega may not be the one Castiel was seeking loomed in Gabriel’s mind. It would break Castiel, he was given such hope and then for it to be taken away from him, it wouldn’t be much different than what happened all those years ago. 

Castiel had stormed out of the building without another word, but Gabriel could take a wild guess as to where he was at the moment—probably blowing off some steam not by sex but by shifting and running aimlessly in the woods. It was a thing he did, each to their own. Or maybe he was on the next flight to South Dakota already, who knew? 

“Why didn’t you stop him, man?” Nikolas piped. Anna and Nikolas and even Ishim had come to give Gabriel moral support because he really needed it. He called Balthazar! Imagine his distress, asking for moral support from Balthazar. As the first beta, it was technically his responsibility to stop Castiel from committing arson on every minor inconvenience. 

“It is like babysitting the Anti Christ, you try it sometime.” Gabriel glared at him. He was still holed up in the building, in Castiel’s office. 

Anna walked in with Gabriel’s emotional support hot chocolate and marshmallows because well, he deserved it. Not knowing what his stupid little alpha brother was up to wasn’t exactly a good thing, whatever it was, he just hoped it wouldn’t make the papers, the web, the anywhere. “Thanks.” He said giving Anna a small smile. Anna’s hot chocolate was just what he needed.

“Okay that’s a touching reunion, can we get back to the situation at hand before we hear a nuke going off somewhere?” Ishim pointed out and Gabriel grimaced at him. He was never the one to jump into mafia or wolf-kin politics, at best give Ishim a chick to bang and a gun to shoot—he’d walk to his grave happily. 

“But what can we even do?” Anna countered and Gabriel sighed, sipping the simmering hot chocolate. She was right. 

“Frankly speaking, not much. It’s Castiel. You know, he needs his space.” Nikolas shrugged matter of factly. “Tell me, is it true?” Gabriel’s eyes found Nikolas’ reluctant ones.

“Well, from what I’ve seen looks like it.” 

“A silver wolf—now that’s a deity Michael would love to have his hands on.” Nikolas let out a huff and Gabriel wasn’t in the mood of thinking anything that’s got to do with Michael. 

“Don’t say that, don’t even think it, Nik. That dick is only alive because-

“Because of Luce? Because Castiel is too guilty to kill him but you know what? The wrong brother died. It should’ve been Michael.” Nikolas’ voice was raised to the heavens, the anger, the sorrow spiked in his scent. Anna flinched, Ishim stared out the glass. Talk about dysfunctional folks. 

“Okay enough,’ Anna lightly ordered. “Let’s just not lose our focus.” 

“Look, I’m telling you to let him do this his own way.” Nikolas suggested and Gabriel rolled his eyes so hard, they went back his head. 

“His own way? Are you fucking kidding me? Just now that asshat wanted to walk in Mexico without the seal of approval and start a full fledged war. This is what I warned you about! He is erratic, he’s on edge, and he is relentless in his pursuit of the omega and not in a healthy way.” 

“That’s classic Castiel, come on!” Nikolas’ shoulder rose and dropped with an unbothered look. 

“Geez, I swear to god I must be adopted. What the actual fuck is wrong with you all?” Ishim muttered, dramatically horrified. Anna on the other hand, was as unbothered as Nikolas so she might have been learning after all. 

“You know his head is not in the right place, especially after seeing that footage.” Gabriel told Nikolas ignoring Ishim. He was in no mood for a sarcastic spar with his brother in the middle of this crisis. But he was in a total mood to have an aggressive spar of ‘ _I told you so, I told you he’d end up in the same ditch he got out of’_ with Nikolas. 

“But that video confirms the existence of the omega, right? Why is that a bad thing?” Anna asked, visibly confused. Nikolas turned to glance at them, they both heaved a sigh. 

Gabriel didn’t know what to tell her, so he remained silent pretending he didn’t hear Anna’s question. Nikolas stood by the glass, facing the window with his hands to his back.

“The omega couldn’t shift.” Nikolas finally said, after a long silence that seemed to awkwardly stretch. 

“What?” Ishim and Anna both exclaimed in accord. Ishim was as clueless as Anna though he was much older than her. He was born much later after Castiel, another one of Czar Krushnics hook ups but a complete wolf. So Anna and him, were for the most part kept away from this topic. 

“His omega couldn’t shift.” Nikolas sighed. Anna’s eyes widened as she turned to Gabriel for confirmation. He nodded. 

"Then what did he lead this animal control search for?" Ishim asked, dumbfounded.

"He's a possessive bastard okay? The girl Nikolas brought in that night told him there was someone else with the omega at the monastery, he assumed it was an alpha and it probably was, I dont know." Gabriel answered, frustrated out of his wits. "A silver wolf is not something he was expecting to find and neither was I."

The room fell silent, no one had the heart to speak and voice their questions. They all knew what it meant that his omega couldn't shift. Gabriel rested his head against the soft tufted sofa, occasionally sipping his now cold hot chocolate. He glanced at his watch as it struck past 10, going on 11 in a few. He could have him tracked, by Kevin or Cecily but he didn’t want to cross a line, Castiel was big on boundaries. But if he doesn’t return or call by morning, Gabriel would have to take measures. 

“Was he, uh-?” Anna licked her lips, tried to ask. 

“Yes, he was from the zeta lineage.” Gabriel quenched her curiosity. It was a big deal for them obviously, but the Krushnics never really cared about zetas being zetas, as their father put it once, _A wolf is a wolf, no matter what._ But the zetas were no wolves, they were snakes. 

“I didn’t know that was possible.” Anna mumbled, her voice low from the blow. 

“Okay, don’t ask me how I know, but I had a feeling the omegas loss had something to do with zetas in view of Castiel’s genocide—what I didn’t know was that those bastards were blessed with an omega and they- 

“Killed him?” Gabriel turned to glance at Ishim who was putting 2 and 2 together. “Yes, they did.” Nikolas scoffed, still not believing the omega to be dead. 

“You don’t know that.” Nikolas didn’t turn to look at Gabriel, but his voice laced of uncertainty. 

“I was there remember? I brought Castiel to the mansion,’ Gabriel’s voice almost broke, it was the most haunting memory in his mind.

He remembered he arrived too late, Castiel was strung up to a tree, unrecognizable, cut, and bled and veins pumped of Affinis. 

“But did you see the omega, see him die?” Anna keenly asked, opening Gabriel’s mind to that god awful memory. 

“I saw enough.” He said quietly. Because he did, he saw enough. 

He saw Castiel’s unidentifiable and lifeless body. And the blood, buckets of blood that covered the mud a few feet away from Castiel and it wasn’t his blood. Gabriel could breathe the torment in the air and the blood, and oh the blood, and he knew the omega couldn’t have made it. The zetas caught up to them, there was no other explanation. 

Gabriel remembered that time, remembered the depths of Castiel’s grief and the regret in his eyes when he came back to life. That night the Krushnics had bowed to the alpha that rose from the throes of death. Their father’s chest had filled with pride to have birthed a god in the midst of man. But the god was now a monster, the god was now broken. 

“Why didn’t we tell the council?” Ishim asked in disbelief and Gabriel rolled his eyes, Nikolas followed with a huff. 

“What do you think they would’ve done, jackass? They didn’t even know the omega existed, hell even dad didn’t know till the very end. Besides, Cas was in no condition to take part in a council investigation, let alone stand trial for obstruction of the truth and you think father would’ve allowed such a stain on the Krushnic name? He’d rather just kill Castiel himself.” Nikolas sneered, always the voice of reason. 

He remembered how Castiel aimlessly searched the woods for days at end, he didn’t speak, didn’t say a word, and didn’t talk to anyone, not even their father. Those nights he let their late mothers lingering scent be the anchor to his emotions. 

Gabriel never really came to know what happened that night, Castiel never talked about it. But Gabriel told him he was dead, he knew it in his bones but Castiel didn’t falter off his narrative. However, even he knew it somewhere that the omega couldn’t have made it, he just refused to believe it. So he looked and looked and looked for something, and then he found the seer. But even she couldn’t be the balm to his wounds and that was the last straw—his madness turned to such rage, it devoured him whole. 

It was only then father had decided to have him return to Russia, Castiel was nothing but a hazard to himself and he raised such a death toll it shocked even Czar Krushnic. The killings didn’t stop, Castiel was all but rogue and his revenge massacre couldn’t go on in American domain for longer so they did what they had to do. The omegas loss awakened something so dark in him, he scared even their father.

But it was the unspeakable act of closure that somewhat brought him back to himself. Only then he returned to Russia but it wasn’t Gabriel’s story to tell. So he turned a deaf ear to all the questions that Anna and Ishim raised. 

_What happened that night?_

_How did Castiel beat death?_

_Do we have a scientific explanation?_

_Were they mated?_

_What was his name?_

_Why did the zetas kill him?_

He wanted to scream it wasn’t his story to tell, that he didn’t know anymore than they did. But his mind wandered to the problem at hand as he watched the clock struck 2 in the morning. And he decided that after all, he’d have to cross a boundary—Castiel and his boundaries be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> замечательный- Splendid  
> Нет, это невозможно- No, It is Impossible


	7. Omega Privilege

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to everyone who're following this fic, so far I'm having a blast writing it. And i can only hope you are too! <3  
> Constructive criticism is welcomed, normal comments are also welcomed! 
> 
> And hopefully if my schedule allows, there will be an edit with the next chapter!

An omegas bite is said to be as sacred as its existence. Dean had read all about himself, a lot of things he regarded as myths and maybe they were, maybe they weren’t—the world no longer was predictable, much like his own damn wolf that ended up getting what he wanted. 

He shifted, broke the ironclad panic room and woke up naked on some forest trail in Sioux Falls with Sam’s tan wolf tugging at his feet. It had been embarrassing to say the least considering it had never happened before—his wolf and he had always been in sync so he didn’t know what gave? 

Dean had groaned at all the memories that came gushing with a headache and soon a very concerned Charlie was strutting towards him with a duffle strung to her side while Sam still tugged at his feet in a way that said, ‘ _get up you jerk.’_ But this time, the scale of his fuck up was massive. He remembered the lady with the camera that saw him and probably filmed his appearance accidentally. It was enough for them to fuck off to Poland at that point and never return.

He got dressed and so did Sam who was all kinds of mad at him, Charlie was the sane one in that situation as she prevented Sam from biting Dean’s head off and for right reasons but they didn’t have time to bicker. According to his own calculation, his heat usually lasted 4 days. Now he remembered spending almost at least more than a day in the panic room, so naturally the remaining were spent in the woods and his fears came to life when Charlie confirmed that a call went through to the animal control and Dean was ready to bet money that it was the camera lady. 

He had mentally cursed himself when it dawned on him that he’d put Bobby in danger. Hell, he put everyone in danger though Charlie and Bobby both told him otherwise. It didn’t make it any better, it was his doing. 

Sam on the other hand needed his space, for him it all came down to the nightmares that Dean didn’t talk about. And Dean didn’t want to share this with his brother of all people that in his dreams he fantasizes about some blue eyed mate that his mind had made up. Besides, they weren’t particularly nightmares, they were just….dreams. Good ones. Probably his subconscious compensating for the life he wouldn’t have. 

But the nightmares were there too. A potent smell of blood that he could taste, distant screaming, and a feeling of foreboding enveloping him—a feeling that he’d never see someone he loved dearly again. It scared him to no end, but he wouldn’t talk to Sam about that, no way in hell. 

One thing was certain, they couldn’t stay at Bobby’s and neither could Bobby stay at Bobby’s. It had become too dangerous for either of them but Bobby would see no reason, Dean knew Bobby wouldn’t leave but he tried and if something were to happen to him because of Dean’s blunder, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself so he did the next best thing—used his omega powers. 

He bore his canines and marked Bobby. 

An omegas mark/bite was said to have been holy, he had read legends about it so it only made sense. In the olden times, wolf-kin from afar would come to have their children bitten by an omega—it was said to give them strength, in other lores it meant being touched by the moon goddess so only chosen people got to carry it. 

Therefore, he had a feeling that his bite would protect Bobby from everyone wolf-kin. Out of all the myths he had read about himself, this one held the bases of being actually true. 

And with that, the trio was out of Sioux Falls, straight up heading towards Colorado. Charlie had pinpointed the witch’s location, it had been relatively easy for her. She wasn’t putting much effort in hiding anyway, she wasn’t using any aliases and to top the crazy tree, she had a job. Imagine a wolf-kin witch, living like a human, holding a job. But that wasn’t much surprising in view of their own stipulation. 

It was roughly a 10 hour drive from South Dakota to Grand Junction, Colorado. They couldn’t risk the luxury of resting so they decided to take turns driving until they had reached Colorado. And Dean dreaded letting Sam and Charlie drive Baby while he got himself his 4 hours but it was a necessary evil. It’d particularly been a silent ride except for Charlie blabbering random facts about Grand Junction, how it wasn’t a safe city like their lives could get any more unsafe. 

It was almost funny how unbelievably screwed up everything had been since they got to know that they could bring their mother back to life, not that their lives were any easy or luxurious before. Getting murdered for being from the Winchester-Campbell bloodline wasn’t really on his bucket list but to think the Russians were literally onto them because of an extinct flower was more than a little scary. 

He was least worried about himself, if they really caught up to them because well, he was an omega. But he was scared for Sam and Charlie, the last alpha of a rogue pack and a human girl. And he felt culpable for being the one to screw everything up time and again. Sam could’ve gone to school, been a lawyer. Charlie could’ve gotten a job at Google but he had to bring them on his ‘ _bring mom back_ ’ mission. He couldn’t possibly beat himself up any more than he did, but a part of him longed for his mother so much, it drilled a hole in his chest. 

Longing was all he felt. For his mother, for a family, for a life he knew he couldn’t have. So he wanted to risk getting at least one thing for himself, his mother. He never got to know what happened to her, what became of their packs—he had only been no more than 6 when she came and took the brothers from the comfort of their home to Bobby’s. Sam was a mere child of 3. They never saw her again after that day. And time went on, life went on. Bobby became their father, his wife Karen became their mother. 

For the longest he wondered what became of his mother, he would ask Bobby again and again, he would ask Karen until his tongue hung tired but all they said was, ‘ _She will come back, Dean. Don’t you worry about her.’_ And Dean would sleep hoping and praying that she would. 

Dean was 9 when Karen died. That day he accepted that his mother wasn’t coming back. That day he mourned the loss of two mothers, each weighed heavy on his heart. 

He sometimes wondered if he was cursed, he loved Mary and she never came back, he loved Karen like a mother and she died. He wondered if it was because of him, and fast forward present day, in the impala where they were running for their lives, he looked at Sam and Charlie and wondered the same thing. 

What good was being an omega? A being worthy of worship, ‘touched by god’ and whatnot. It was like the universe was playing an elaborate joke on him, it sucked and he couldn’t see it getting better any time soon. 

But so what? That’s life, aint it? 

Anyhow, after the torment of driving nonstop with broken backs from napping in the sturdy seats of the impala, they had finally reached Colorado, all grumpy, dirty and sleepless.

Dean glanced at his watch that struck a little after 8pm as the impala came to halt in front of a small but remarkable house that looked more like a cabin.

The neighborhood Summer Hill particularly didn’t seem much friendly but the small house at the end of the street looked…welcoming and poles apart from all the other ones. 

“Are you sure it’s the right address?” Dean asked as they all exited the impala. To which Charlie had rolled her eyes. 

“Of course, it was on her job application.” 

“Come on then.” Dean shrugged and Sam damn near had an aneurysm. 

“Come on then? We don’t know anything about her! She could kill us or worst hand us over to the Russians. What then?” He asked, crossing his arms. 

“Aren’t you an optimist?” Dean muttered. Leave it to Sam to be a complete cynic in the situations that need optimism. It wasn’t like Dean hadn’t thought about that prospect. He dug into his glove compartment and emerged with a stainless steel Colt proudly with a smirk on his face.

“You stole a gun?” Sam grimaced and Charlie followed. Dean rolled his eyes. 

“No, dumbass. Bobby gave it to me.” He told him, hurling the gun from one hand to the other with a titter. “It’s silver bullets okay? We’ll be fine.” 

Sam and Charlie shared concerned looks—ever the skeptics but it wasn’t like they had any other choice. Besides, Dean was a good shot or that’s what he at least liked to think. It had been a while since he fired a gun, but guns and him were a love story. 

The three of them walked towards the house in slow and calculated steps looking around each second, waiting for something to happen. But nothing did, they safely made their way to the veranda. And to his surprise the door swung open before he could even knock and his heart stopped for a moment. 

Out came the redhead witch, her skin as pale as milk and her curls vicious. She had the most hospitable smile on her face and oddly enough she wore a gown. Dean blinked a couple times in incredulity. “You didn’t have trouble finding the house, I believe?” She asked passionately, her accent thick and Scottish. “Come on in!” 

Dean glanced back at Charlie and Sam, his hand gripping the gun tightly in his jacket. They were as wide eyed as he was. Dean exhaled urgently, his mind processing worst case scenarios but he stepped in and reluctant Sam and Charlie followed. 

Her small hall was minimalistic in a modern and professional way—small chandeliers hung from the ceiling and the couches matched the color of her walls. An off white grey maybe, Dean couldn’t tell. It was a two storey and a one bedroom, that much he could tell. 

“Y-You knew we w-were coming?” Sam stuttered and Dean mentally rolled his eyes. 

“Why yes, dear. I am a seer.” She replied with a smile, gesturing them to sit. And they did, Dean’s hand still gripped the butt of his gun tightly. “You won’t be needing a gun, dear boy.” 

She was so smiley, it warmed Dean but it also creeped him out. He let go off the gun and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. Dean settled in with Sam on the couch, Charlie was slowly pacing here and there, looking around the house. It didn’t look like a witch’s house, Dean was expecting something…gory. 

“So, you’re Rowena?” Dean asked as she settled herself parallel to them. 

“In the flesh.” She replied. 

“You work in Real Estate?” Dean scowled and she let out a chuckle. 

“Yes, one has to get by.” She answered. It was odd that Dean couldn’t scent her, she was after all wolf-kin. “I have lived a life of danger long enough to cherish the simplicity of it.” 

“Right, you came here in 1960.” Sam pointed out. 

“You’ve done your homework.” She eyed Sam and not in an innocent way. “Yes, it was an unfortunate era. The Russians are…well, Russians.” She shrugged, leaning comfortably. “Who’s this sweet redhead?” She asked glancing back at Charlie who was admiring something on the wall. 

“She’s a friend.” Dean said. 

“A human friend is a dead friend, my dear.” Charlie sharply turned and found Dean and Sam’s eyes. “Especially when you’re running from who you’re running.” She said matter of factly and something shifted in Dean, a feeling of dread. 

“So you know we’re running from the Russians?” Dean asked feeling stupid for even asking. 

“What did I say? I’m a seer. I know things.” 

“How are you in Russian domain?” Sam interrupted the intense and awkward eye contact that had ensued between Dean and her. He didn’t know what to feel about her, whether to trust her or not. 

“When I came it was a kind alphas domain. He gave me refuge and well, then he was overthrown, the Russians came etc etc and now, Castiel leaves me alone. He has much to do than hunt down a wee witch.” 

_Castiel_. Dean repeated the name in his head. Dean had scoffed at the odd name but there was such familiarity to it now, upon hearing it again from someone who was not Charlie.

“Yeah, but he sure is trying to hunt us down for stealing his precious flower, it's not like we want to off him. It's not like we _can_.” 

Rowena’s eyes were almost gloomy when she turned to look at Dean. “If he were trying to hunt you, you wouldn’t have been sitting here, dearie.” She replied, the gloom lingered in her eyes for a moment or two. “Besides, he could never hurt you, Dean.” 

It wasn’t strange that she knew his name, but it was the way she conveyed the last sentence. “Because I’m an omega.” It was more a question than it was a declaration. 

“But Samuel, the last alpha of Winchester-Campbell bloodline,’ she glanced at Sam who fidgeted awkwardly beside Dean. “Him, he would kill.” She shrugged. “And her too, I believe.” She pointed at Charlie and Dean wanted to kind of shoot her for the direct implication. 

“Is he that big a monster?” Dean asked blankly, trying to hide how scared he was for Sam and Charlie. But what was he even expecting from a hybrid who was mafia as well.

“He wasn’t always one.” There was a strange sadness in her eyes, the kind she tried to conceal but it bled in her eyes anyway. 

“What happened?” 

“He lost someone.” Came the reply with a light shrug. 

Dean wondered how massive of a loss it would’ve been to turn a man into a monster. He didn’t even know the first thing about this alpha, but he felt for him—losing someone wasn’t simple, he of all people knew that. Maybe it was a mate. 

Rowena had extended her amiability and was now serving them drinks and sandwiches. Who would’ve thought, an omega, an alpha, a human and a wolf-kin witch enjoying food and drinks under one roof. The world had always been a strange place. 

She had taken quite an interest in Sam of all people, he asked her questions out of curiosity, she answered him, she leaned into him and he almost leaned back. Charlie and Dean both shared amused looks, they sure seemed to be getting along fine and there Dean thought he would be the center of attention for being an omega. His wolf slapped a mental image in his head of Sam and Rowena with their little witch pups as he watched both of them laugh at something Charlie said. Insinuating bastard. 

“Alright, I’m thrilled that we’re all getting along,’ Dean clapped his hands loudly and began. “But we’re on clock, and I think you know we didn’t just come to say hey.” 

“I believe you came for the resurrection spell.” Rowena said loosely, shaking her wine glass back and forth. 

“We’re told you’d have one, and the ingredients for said spell too.” Sam intervened and Rowena almost looked conceited to be the one with the vast knowledge of magic. 

“Do you know how long I’ve lived?” She asked, sipping her wine. “3 centuries. That’s 300 long long years and in my time until now, not once have I heard about someone attempting to resurrect a loved one. Do you know what that means?” 

Dean didn’t and frankly he didn’t care. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. Can it be done? Yes or No?” He deadpanned. 

Rowena smiled an astonished smile, Dean stood expectantly by the window with crossed arms. “It can be done.” She told him truthfully. “I have the spell, you have the flower and I may even have the rest of the ingredients, but there is a wee intricacy.” 

“I’m listening.” Dean said, shifting from one foot to the other bracing himself for whatever she was about to say. 

“I don’t know if it will work.” She said candidly, shrugging. Dean at that point was having a full blown mental discussion with himself as to whether to gun down the witch right then and there or not. 

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by Sam. “That’s fair.” He shrugged towards Dean. 

“Yeah I guess.” Charlie too. 

“That’s fair? We literally went all ‘ _Marathon Man’_ , there’s Russian Mafia on our ass for a stupid flower, we risked our life for this and you’re saying you don’t know if it’ll work? I’m sorry but I’m gonna need something more solid than that.” Dean was all but screaming however Rowena hardly flinched. If anything, Dean thought she understood his irritation by the look on her face. Sam and Charlie were going through second hand embarrassment but Dean didn’t care, how dare they say it was fair when it was anything but fair. 

“Dean,’ Sam interjected, his expression screamed ‘ _get it together man.’_

“It’s alright, Samuel.” She smiled placing her wine glass on the table and slowly closed the distance between her and Dean. “I will not give you false hope, my dear. For someone who has lived for centuries, I know what it does to a person but what I can promise you, is that your happiness does not depend on whether the spell works or not. You will be it regardless.....eventually.” 

Dean felt like she could see inside him, his doubts, his nightmares, his dreams and he had never felt so vulnerable in his life. This witch, this woman he’d just met was telling him what he needed to hear maybe, after all. But it was not enough.

“How do you expect me to be happy?” He spat, but his susceptibility bled onto his face. Because with his mother, he intended to find the happiness him and Sam never experienced, with her he intended to fill the void he’d felt forever. 

Rowena touched his face, her cold and soft palms rubbing his light stubble and Dean flinched at the warmth of her cold touch—her smile cosy and affectionate for some reason. “You will not be unhappy forever, Dean. I hope you know that because I do."

Dean didn’t know what it was about her, maybe it was that she was a seer, maybe it was that she was gentle and maternal, but it felt like he’d known her. In an alternate universe maybe, in a different lifetime.


	8. Dirty Politics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright so here is a small and rough character edit i made for Castiel.  
> In a way, it showcases how Castiel's life was after he lost the omega. All ruthless and destructive and how he was haunted by his memory.  
> I mean it's so not perfect but i tried!!! 
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVELIES!!

Castiel’s weapons splayed disassembled neatly on the wide king sized bed while he hovered over them, his arms crossed across his chest and his eyes finding the outside view from the window every now and then. 

The sun was just coming up the horizon, the sky was a mix of light and dark—just how Castiel liked. 

He lit himself another cigarette, the previous one burnt and forgotten in the ashtray. His throat felt coarse and ashy from all the smokes and whiskies he had consumed on his way to South Dakota. He sort of also felt guilty for leaving like that because Gabriel would’ve lost his mind by now considering the million times Castiel let his call go to the voicemail. 

But he couldn’t deal with Gabriel’s protocols. This, he wanted to do alone. He had a feeling he was close, that he’d find the answer to at least some of his questions. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t dreading those answers already. But then he closed his eyes and took comfort in his memories of the freckled omega. 

It was truly a mystery, loving him but god did he love him. It had been such long, almost a lifetime ago but his perfume and his touch Castiel carried with him, as fresh as they were. He never believed in the gods, but if they did exist, they were all cruel and capricious and Castiel would hunt each one down like he did the Zetas. Maybe then the pain would lessen. Maybe then he’d be able to sleep peacefully, nightmareless. 

Nevertheless, he submitted himself to the horrifying trial of hope. It was such a stupid thing to do, to hope when you’re a nuisance, when you walk and your steps wreak havoc. Castiel never truly forgave himself for not being able to protect his omega, he had failed the only thing he loved in the whole world after his mother. 

He'd lost her when he was only 10, a lifetime ago as well and yet her absence weighed him down. She had been the driving force of Castiel’s integrity, his empathy—when the world deemed him a god, a monster, she was the one to tell him that he didn’t have to be either. He could just be him, just be Cas. 

She introduced him to everything good, everything he thought he wasn’t and then she was gone, just like that. She’d been so loved that her loss changed everyone, even Czar Krushnic—the Russian alpha who cared about everything, stopped caring all of a sudden. 

And Castiel wished to be the person she thought he would grow to be. Her faith in him was so unwavering that he didn’t wanted to give up everything he’d learn from her but watching his father destroy everything she stood for put things in perspective for him. 

He watched him grieve to the core, and become every inch an alpha, a coldblooded father—and for the longest Castiel wondered how his father could change so significantly, but then he did too. 

He fell in love and the omega taught him everything he thought he’d buried with his mother, again. The omega cared about the world, so he cared about it too. And then he ceased to exist in that very world, it was then he understood his father and his need to fill the hole she left behind. 

It was almost poetic, how the omega wanted to save the world. How he saw such raw beauty in the cracks of humanity, how he wanted to love and save Castiel—Castiel who was flawed and broken and bad and because of him, Castiel wanted to save the world too. 

Not so much now. There was nothing worth saving, and what could Castiel even save? He couldn’t even save the love of his life so he let his grief turn him into his father. He spilled blood worth countries yet all that blood couldn’t compensate for the loss he felt. Revenge wasn’t it for him—the more blood he spilt, the angrier he felt. 

And then there were times he silently hoped to die because his shoulders felt too narrow to carry the things he did, there were times he hoped for an afterlife despite his skepticism in the gods, so that he could reunite with the omega. 

It was strange how the only weapon that could kill him, couldn’t properly kill him that night. Such tragedy it was, being alive when the other wasn't, it was almost like an angry god seeking vengeance upon you for something you did in your previous life. He wondered and wondered, analyzed every little detail in his mind from that night but there never was an elucidation.

 _Why me?_ He often asked himself. _Of all people, why me?_

He stopped asking after a while, after a while his father’s need for him to be _the alpha_ bled into him. What else did he have to lose? Nothing. 

So he gave his father the alpha he asked for, the true hybrid—the monster, the god, the one that couldn’t die and mother Russia thrived on love and fear alike—mafia and wolf-kin both. 

It was a feat for Czar Krushnic and it was a dream for Castiel when they took America from the usurpers that just so happened to be the Zetas. 

Castiel didn’t care about his uncle’s demise, he didn’t care about America—he heard zetas and he saw red. 

It felt insightful to draw their blood, to raze them to the ground, to watch their pride melt in their dead eyes. Castiel had never felt such emancipation, but it was short lived like every good thing when his father deemed him worthy of the title ‘ _the American Alpha_.’ 

Castiel knew Lucas and Michael had their eyes dead set on the prize that was that title and for it to be offered to him was no less a betrayal, especially to Michael and a silent tussle ensued within the Krushnics. It ended in Lucas’ blood. Yet another thing Castiel held himself liable for. 

He glanced at the clock as it struck a little past 9. He didn’t realize he’d left his thoughts run wild to the point he lost track of time. Chugging the last of his whiskey, he sat down to assemble his pistols and a knock was heard on the door. He paused, the barrel of his Lebedev pistol in his hand. And came another knock. He closed his eyes, focusing on trying to get a whiff of the scent but it was a hotel, there were too many. 

Now it could be breakfast, except he specifically asked the management to not bother with it. Or it could be a foe that wants him dead except a foe wouldn’t politely knock—a foe would just bomb the whole damn hotel and wish him dead. 

So that narrowed down his conclusion pretty much. Another light knock and Castiel just up and opened the door. 

“Кузина.” He heaved a loud sigh at the sight and mentally cursed Gabriel. “Что ты здесь делаешь?” 

“I am thrilled that you even remember me, моя альфа.” He said in a slightly mocking manner as he walked past Castiel, right into the room. “What do you think was gonna happen?” 

By the time Castiel closed the door, Uriel had already made himself home and was expectantly waiting for him to reply. Castiel grasped why he always hated the idea of a bodyguard when he saw Uriel again under the similar circumstances he’d seen him before. 

Uriel was a specialist and a distant cousin as well. His father had sent him to retrieve Castiel when he had _quote_ gone rogue _end quote_ , in the American alphas domain so as expected that hadn’t been a very fond memory. 

He had been a bloody mess to say the least, in the most literal way possible but it was justified—his circumstance, the zeta corpses he burnt and buried and if Uriel hadn’t come when he did, he would’ve gone ahead and single handedly razed the zeta population completely to the ground. (Which he later did anyway when they took America) 

“This situation does not require your expertise, Uriel.” Castiel tilted his head and crossed his arms in challenge. 

“Maybe,’ he shrugged, picking at the full ashtray. “You might’ve refused a bodyguard but don’t forget I have your fathers approval to guard you anyway should there be danger.” 

“Ты думаешь, я не смогу защитить себя?” Castiel sharply took a step forward, his eyes narrowed dangerously in disbelief. 

Uriel stepped back instinctively. “The problem is not that you can’t defend yourself, the problem is that you _can._ ” He worded his sentence rather determined. “Either way, you’re not a Krushnic prince anymore, you’re the king. Now America very well may be your domain and you may be hard to kill but that doesn’t mean that your rivals won't love to give it a try nevertheless and need I remind you being captured is far worse than dying….and die, you can’t.” 

Castiel mentally rolled his eyes at the prince/king analogy his cousin had presented. And he was aware that a wolf-kin being captured by gangster and mob humans of all, is not a neat affair courtesy of Nikolas who had the privilege of being abducted that one time by another emerging Bratva in Russia and it’d been all kinds of messy. 

“You need not tell me how to do my job, I am no fool.” 

“You’re anything but,’ Uriel shrugged. “However, to defend and protect is my job and I intend to do it.” 

Castiel scoffed. “Defend and protect me?” 

“From yourself, yes.” 

Castiel knew it was a lost battle, Uriel wouldn’t budge and he could actually use a cleanup man should he choose a violent approach to the situation at hand. Besides, it wasn’t like Castiel could kill him as much as he wanted that to be an option. 

“So you’re what, babysitting me now?” He asked, visibly offended that his father and brother even thought he would need to be taken care of like a spoilt child. 

“I do not like this anymore than you do, Castiel but your suicidal affinities call for this measure. You know we, as a pack, would rather have you…functioning.” 

“I am _not_ suicidal,’ Castiel gritted his teeth, taking another step towards him. “Step carefully, Uriel. The only reason I endure your existence in my proximity is because of my father.” His eyes almost flashed red but he contained it, somehow. 

“Прости меня,’ Uriel gulped and Castiel saw through his whole bravado act that he always pulled on. “I intend to do my job without any…mishaps.” 

“For your sake, you must.” He muttered and turned to assemble his weapons in a rather quick manner. 

He didn’t want to give Uriel the idea that he wouldn’t rip his throat out on impulse just because he had his father’s approval or something. Castiel had been successfully seeing to wolf-kin and mafia politics both for a long time to be treated like some fragile child. 

There was silence in the room, just the clinking of Castiel’s guns as he assembled them. He figured he put the fear of god in Uriel and Uriel was probably lost in his own thoughts, trying to figure if Castiel would really kill him—and Castiel would. 

“Where’s your stuff?” Uriel broke the silence. And Castiel silently gestured at the open black leather duffle bag on the table without removing his attention from his guns. “This is your weapons bag.” 

Castiel was done with his guns, he neatly placed them with his shoulder holster and turned to face Uriel. “Yes, I know that.” Castiel deadpanned. 

“You flew to South Dakota with only a weapons bag?” He grimaced and Castiel shrugged wondering what he would wear if he were to shower now bearing in mind he didn’t bring anything. “With all due respect, I think you’re a psychopath.” 

Castiel scoffed at the conclusion and glanced at his watch, it was pretty much starting to be noon now. “I have to shower, get me a suit.” He ordered absentmindedly making his way towards the overly lavish bathroom, already shedding his clothes, not caring how Uriel would arrange a suit for him so quickly. It was technically his headache, now that he’d decided to babysit Castiel. 

\---------

Castiel stood outside the lady’s house. A child was sitting on her porch, drawing or coloring—whatever it is the kids do these days. He wouldn’t know. There was something so normal about having a house, a partner and a couple children that it was almost bizarre. Castiel could never see that happening for himself, as much as his father would want it to happen. 

“What’s the plan here?” Uriel asked leaning on the Audi, the only car available in the cargo of his jet when he landed. 

He lit a cigarette and squinted up at the sun. It was too much light for his liking. “Say if I kill her, would you be able to make it look like an accident?” 

Uriel let out a laugh when Castiel was half expecting him to go bananas. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He replied digging his hand into his jacket pocket and presented two fake Animal Control Officer badges that looked, well…not very fake. “You don’t need to be killing anyone to get this job done, Castiel. Not everything requires murder and torture.” 

Castiel narrowed his eyes at his badge. “I am James Novak, now?” He grimaced at the information on the badge. “Where did you find my picture?” 

“It was Gabriel’s idea, don’t look at me.” He brought his hands to his chest and shrugged. Of course it was Gabriel’s idea. “But it’s a good idea.” He admitted and Castiel heaved a loud sigh in defeat exhaling the smoke in the air. He himself was not in the mood of ruining the new suit. 

And as it turned out, it was relatively very easy to impersonate Animal Control Officers. Castiel still couldn’t believe he agreed to go through with the absurdity of it but they were now sitting in the kind woman’s house that smelt like candy and damp laundry--an odd combination. She seemed very excited to tell them all about what she saw. She even served them herbal tea that Uriel gladly downed. 

“So, Jude, tell us about this wolf you saw?” Uriel asked as Castiel sat back patiently, looking around the messy house. Uriel really was the one to sweet talk and get on first name bases with someone Castiel was thinking about murdering a few minutes ago. 

“Oh yes, we were camping just up at the Great Bear Valley when I saw it.” She said, her eyes widened with wonder as if she was reliving the moment. “I mean, of course I know there are no wolves in South Dakota but god, she was magnificent.” 

“She?” Castiel questioned, confused. 

“It was just too beautiful and delicate and strong at the same time, looked like a she to me.” She shrugged and Castiel mentally smiled, the green eyed omegas delicate features flashing before his eyes.

He knew the mystery that surrounded this omega that could shift, it could very well be a different omega, the thought had crossed Castiel’s mind. But something in his gut told him otherwise—it was too late to give up hope. 

“We’re under the impression that you captured the ome- the wolf on camera and posted it on social media, yes?” Castiel asked wanting to confirm whether she still had the footage or not or whether her website was still up and running. 

“I did post the video on my website, but something happened, my website…it’s just gone now. I’ve tried to recover it but to no avail. My husband says it's a lost cause.” She seemed distressed by the loss of her website and Castiel nodded, glancing at Uriel. 

“That’s too bad!” Uriel exclaimed. “Do you still have the footage on your camera? It would really help…with…our investigation.” 

“Oh darn, yes of course I have it on the camera. Would you like to see? I can show you now.” She offered. 

“Can we borrow your memory card instead? I promise we’ll return it after.” Uriel smiled and the woman was reluctant at first but gave in. 

“Be sure to return it to me, I want this experience to stay with me forever.” Castiel cringed at her words and Uriel shared the feeling. 

“Of course ma’am! Would you give me a moment alone with my partner?” 

Uriel turned to Castiel who was regretting not murdering the woman on principle for the cringe. “I want to kill her.” Castiel muttered, his mind clearly making up reasons why she should die.

“Seriously, what’s it with you and killing when you can just bind her and be done with it?” Uriel whispered, visibly confused. 

Castiel obliged against his better judgment. Bore his fangs just enough to nip at her wrist and taste the mercury on his tongue to create a blood bond and in the process made her forget all about the silver wolf. He was sure she wouldn’t remember anything for a good 6 to 8 years and a lot can happen in 6 to 8 years, maybe she’d just die herself. 

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Uriel announced as Castiel got in the car. “You survived.”

“Survived what?” Castiel asked absentmindedly, gearing the car in action. His mind dead set on the destination and his heart determined to _find, find, find._

“Not killing anyone.” Uriel rolled his eyes and Castiel collectively ignored his petty attempt at humor. “Where are we going, now?” 

A feeling of satisfaction rose in his gut, his wolf twisted in him rather excitedly—which meant he was going in the right direction and Castiel’s lips quirked up into a smirk. 

“To find the omega.” 

\----------- 

Gabriel heaved a sigh of relief when he got the much awaited text from Uriel that his brother had been found and was willing to play along, not that Castiel had any choice. Uriel was his assigned and official _телохранитель_ , by the strict order of their father when Castiel went all Hitler on the zetas. 

Castiel somehow dodged the official bodyguard bullet but their father had set in stone the fact that if he were to need retrieving from situations like that in the future, anyone could invoke Uriel and only Uriel to do the job of bringing him back. He trusted no one with Castiel’s life and for good reason after discovering his tendency to make enemies more than friends much like himself. 

“You owe me 5 grand, Uriel is not dead.” Gabriel chimed and Nikolas groaned in defeat. 

When Gabriel presented the idea of invoking Uriel to do the job, Nikolas was quick to jump and bet that Castiel would kill him—literally. And Gabriel even entertained that possibility considering the headspace Castiel was in when he left and that damn near gave Gabriel brain damage. 

“He should’ve killed him, he’s an annoying piece of shit.” 

“Are you kidding me? There would be hell to pay because dad actually likes the bastard. Castiel might be an idiot but he’s not stupid.” Gabriel pointed out pouring himself a glass full of champagne and raising it to Nikolas who was not having it. 

“You got me. What’s on the agenda today?” 

Gabriel sipped his champagne glancing at the clock, it was almost noon and personally he didn’t much care about the agenda as long as Castiel was safe and not on another murder spree. The mafia business could go on without him for a couple days anyway. “Hell, if I know.” 

He could always call Cecily up, have a good steaming session with the zeta but she’d busied herself with any information she could dig up on the omega’s whereabouts now that she vaguely had the idea about what was really going on. _She really_ wanted to impress Castiel for the right reasons. 

“Hey, have you heard from dad?” Nikolas asked suddenly, his focus intently on his phone. 

“Not in a while. Our last conference was with the council about the whole Russia vs. Ukraine problem—the Ukrainian alpha is a piece of work really, I’m surprised dad didn’t just up and went all _Alexander the great_ on her domain.” Gabriel scoffed, really wondering why he didn’t. 

“Who’s he gonna give Ukraine to, Michael?” Nikolas huffed, knowing taking America was only valid but none of them would be surprised if Czar Krushnic was to wage another war against Ukraine this time, he seemed to do that a lot as does Castiel. Some father son dynamic they made.

“Speaking of, where’s that bastard these days?” 

“I hope he’s dead or something.” Nikolas replied in a low unbothered voice, his eyes not leaving his phone for even a moment.

Gabriel hoped too, there was no one in the world more problematic than Michael. That guy would sell all the Krushnics to the highest bidder and call it a win. “If only dreams could come true.” He sighed, knowing the bastard was probably up to no good wherever he was. 

He chugged down the rest of his champagne and decided to go for a run, it’d been a while since he’d let his wolf lose—it was probably the last full moon with the rest of the pack and cooping in ones wolf meant serious trouble even for a beta. 

“Um, Gabriel?” He heard a familiar voice and turned to see Hester, the secretary poking her head in the study. Gabriel almost forgot he was still in Kansas just at Castiel’s official pack house rather than the HQ now. 

“Hester,’ he acknowledged, Nikolas turned to look too. “Castiel is not here, what are you doing?” He asked wondering if she’d forgotten Castiel wouldn’t need her services until after he returns. 

“Naomi is here.” She declared rather apologetically. Gabriel and Nikolas shared horrified looks, if Naomi was there, it meant nothing good. 

“What do you mean Naomi is here?” Gabriel hissed. 

“It wasn’t even in Castiel’s schedule. But I got a call this morning and came to receive her anyway, it would’ve been impolite.” She answered. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “This day just keeps getting better and better.” 

“Dad and his entourage, I swear.” Nikolas groaned in frustration and Gabriel shared the feeling. 

Naomi was more or less from Czar Krushnic’s inner group and her arrival from Russia meant she brought bad news, just like the bad omen she usually embodied. And her appearance at the official pack house meant she probably had an appointment with Castiel which by the way, he forgot to mention to Gabriel and even his own secretary. But Gabriel should know better by now, how little Castiel cared about his father’s inner circle mostly because they were all prideful fucks. 

“Send her in.” Gabriel said after much thought. It wasn’t like he could send her away, he was dying to know what nuisance she’d brought this time. 

“You think dad sent her?” Nikolas asked, still splayed on the couch under the substantial book shelf. 

“You think she’d come if he hadn’t?” He retorted. “She doesn’t like us enough to just drop by and say hi.” 

Gabriel braced himself for the looming adversity when Naomi entered the room with her smugness and the only sleek suit she seemed to have. Gabriel never saw her in casual which was weird as it was but then again it was Naomi, one can’t simply expect her to act like a normal being ever. 

“Naomi, when did you come?” Gabriel shot up with the fakest smile to welcome her, Nikolas looked amused to say the least but decided against rising in respect for her. 

“Где Castiel?” She asked and of course it was in Russian to sound more menacing than she already does.

“Castiel is busy.” Gabriel replied, with the same enthusiastic smile on his face. “But please, take a seat.” He offered, and she did sit on the couch parallel to Nikolas who eyed her funny. “Would you like a drink?” Gabriel took to his own comfy arm chair he favored.

Naomi shook her head. “Castiel and I had an appointment.” 

Gabriel was glad she switched to English because the exchange would’ve been much hostile if it were to be in Russian and the last thing he wanted was for Nikolas to do something impulsive because none of his brothers could control their damn selves. He realized how he was the only rational one, if it weren’t for him Castiel would’ve started a war with the whole world and Nikolas would’ve probably accompanied him. 

“As I said, he is very busy but I’m happy to speak in his stead.” 

Naomi looked rather disappointed which was expected of her, her pride was wounded, the alpha was busy for her etc etc. “It is a rather personal matter.” 

“We are his first betas, so I suggest you speak.” Nikolas was now sitting upright and Gabriel turned his head to warn him to be civil about it. 

Naomi spoke, again with her wounded pride and all and frankly Gabriel couldn’t really find it in himself to care. “It is about мирный договор that is to be signed between Ukraine and Russia soon.” 

“A peace treaty?” Gabriel grimaced because that wasn’t something he was expecting, not from his father. “You’re kidding right?” 

“You gotta be kidding.” Nikolas added. 

“The council has come to the conclusion.” Naomi declared. 

Gabriel scoffed. “And dad is _listening_ to the council?” 

“Why wouldn’t he? It’s a fair settlement.” Her shoulders rose in a half shrug. 

“A Ukrainian spy was annexed in Russian territory with compromised information and your resolution is a peace treaty?” Nikolas inquired in a slight raised tone because really, that was an insane decree. “And dad is going through with it? I call bullshit!” 

Gabriel eyed Naomi who pulled the most disgusted bitch face at Nikolas, and Nikolas was quick to return the look. “It doesn’t make sense.” 

“Look, the wolf-kin have bled at each other’s hands enough as it is. Czar does not want a war, neither does Katarina.” 

“Of course she doesn’t want a war because she doesn’t stand a chance.” Gabriel said, as calmly as he could but the impatience was clear in his voice. 

“Let me ask you this, what is she offering our father that he’s willing to excuse such treachery?” Nikolas questioned, a low growl escaping his throat. 

“A mate.” 

Gabriel made a face and turned to Nikolas at her collected answer. “So she’s offering herself to him? They’re gonna mate and give us another set of Krushnics, is that it?” Nikolas’ voice is threatening if not downright scary and Gabriel himself was not ready for this power move on his father’s part. 

“She’s offering a mate for Castiel.” She replied with a blank face and Gabriel’s brows furrowed. “Her daughter.” 

Nikolas let out a shrieking laugh and Gabriel was too dumbfounded to follow but that was a great joke. Kudos to Naomi for having a sick sense of humor except that wasn’t a joke at all, Gabriel realized that because Naomi was a messenger from hell and she _doesn’t_ joke. 

“I’ve heard about some really screwed up accords in my time but this one takes the cake, Naomi. Even you have to realize that.” 

Gabriel remarked, his legs crossed and his hands fidgeted in nervousness because that was a complete fucked up thing to do for peace however Gabriel was not a fool—he knew what his father was trying to do, but he couldn’t kill two birds with one stone, not in this state of affairs he couldn’t. 

“Katarina cannot afford conflict, you’re right. I think nobody can afford conflict against Russia and we _cannot_ keep warring when we can profit from a tactical advance and Czar, for once, is willing to give that a try. If Castiel is to mate with Katarina’s only daughter, a child from Krushnic bloodline _will_ sit on the Ukrainian throne.” Gabriel figured as much.

It was all strategic—hell even the mating between his grandfather Adam and American beta Eve was all but planned because the result of that mating was Cain, who was more Russian than he was American. America was Russia’s puppet through and through and it didn’t even know it. It all became much more gripping when Cain was usurped because then Russians had the _right of war_ and America was ripe for the taking. Czar Krushnic wanted to use the same strategy to take Ukraine, or more or less, control it from the comforts of mother Russia. 

“This is all very brilliant, I applaud father, and really I do. But he is playing with fire.” Gabriel warned. 

“Do you even know Castiel, Naomi?” Nikolas mocked. “Scratch that, does dad not know his own son to make this verdict on his behalf? 

“Castiel has to mate in due course, it is unavoidable. Why not do it to strengthen ties and make allies? Isn’t he tired of war?” 

Nikolas gave Gabriel a look that screamed a little ‘ _I will punch this bitch if you don’t’_ and also a little ‘ _can you believe this?’_ “Again, do you even know Castiel?!” 

“You can take up your complaints against your father, I’m just here to convey and convince Castiel.” She shrugged and Gabriel felt like dying upon hearing that because really, the bitch was way over in her head. 

“That would be interesting to watch.” Nikolas smirked deliberately. 

“Convince him? Are you insane?” Gabriel’s face distorted in incredulity. “You’re lucky he’s not here, he would’ve shot you on principle alone.” 

“Gabriel, you know Castiel but I _know_ Czar.” She said in warning and Nikolas let out a scoff. 

“Who are you fooling, Naomi?” Nikolas said in challenge. “You think _you_ know him better than us?” 

“Enough,’ Gabriel said before Nikolas could escalate the tension in the room. “Tell me,’ he turned to face Naomi and her conceit. “Do you really think you can make Castiel do this?” The question was rather simple, and so was the answer. 

“Save me the theatrics, Gabriel. I know what your brother is.” 

“I don’t think you do, or else you wouldn’t be sitting here talking about using him as a sacrificial lamb so that dad could climb the ladder of power even higher. Make no mistake, he will not be influenced, Naomi. This will not end well.” Gabriel affirmed because only a fool would try and think otherwise. 

A vaguely calculating look laced Naomi’s face but a moments silence stretched on for too long. Gabriel didn’t like this, in fact this very situation could turn out to be more problematic considering Castiel’s stance on mating and their father's stance on power. 

“Fine.” She finally said and rose from the couch straightening her coat. “If you’d rather not have me convince Castiel, than I suggest you tell him what’s in the cards when he returns yourself because this is far from over. Ukraine and Russia _will not_ go to war.” 

And with that she was out the room, leaving Gabriel and Nikolas to stew in the crap she’d dumped on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Кузина- cousin  
> Что ты здесь делаешь?- what are you doing here?  
> Ты думаешь, я не смогу защитить себя?-Do you think I can't defend myself?  
> Прости меня- forgive me  
> телохранитель- bodyguard  
> Где Castiel?- where is Castiel?  
> мирный договор- peace treaty


	9. The Allure of the Omega

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so to everyone who is following the fic, I will have Cas and Dean meet probably in the next few chapters please bear with me!!  
> And just so ya'll know, this fic is not beta'd and probably never will be because first, idk how that works honestly I'm fairly very new on ao3. And second, i wouldnt have time to follow up and such.  
> So all the mistakes are my own, my tenses are super shit so please bear with me pt2 :D
> 
> The next chapter will focus on the background relationship that is Rowena/Sam, and some things will be revealed so dont skip it if you're someone who does not like this ship. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy <3

When Castiel decided to explore the Great Bear Valley, where the woman had come across the silver wolf—he wasn’t expecting to be hit by a potent thick scent that aroused him and his wolf to no end. It hit Castiel hard and fast, almost messing with Castiel’s wits to the point he couldn’t make out _what_ was the scent. 

It seemed to be coming from all over, it was like someone drenched the whole trail with fragrances like they spew pesticides on crops. And Castiel found himself at a loss, the scent overpowering his senses and his wolf always was an impatient bastard. 

The cool breeze rustled through the forest, filling Castiel’s nose. It had gotten rather dark, much after noon he supposed but he was too indulgent in his surroundings to care. 

Uriel left him to his analysis and Castiel was gratified to say the least, though his footsteps never really left his side. But he kept his distance. 

Coming to a gradual halt by a bur oak tree, Castiel closed his eyes forcefully and bent up his neck to whiff the scent even more so and as he let his wolf revel in it, when he opened his eyes they were no longer blue, the red had taken over and it was then he realized it was the scent of heat. It was the allure of the omega—the omega had been in heat. 

Hence his own sexual awakening in the middle of the woods, if he’d been a teenager he’d go into rut on the spot but good thing he wasn’t. 

He surveyed the trail further, followed the scent and it was then his mind cleared and he recognized the memorable scent of Freesia lacing the air. He sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes widened when realization made home in his chest—it was his omega. 

There was no doubt about it, not anymore. He would know his scent anywhere, in death, in life, even somewhere in between. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, his insides mush with an incomprehensive feeling that pooled in his gut. It could be happiness, but Castiel wouldn’t call it that too soon. 

Happiness and him were nothing but old nemesis, but he could allow himself a moment of joy however small. He might have not deserved the win after failing the omega, but he sure earned it.

On the other hand, his wolf had gone rather eccentric from impatience. The scent of arousal still thick in the air and he couldn’t shake the fact that his omega had been in heat. He wanted nothing more in that instant than to just find and take care of him. 

The ravishing images that slipped wordlessly in his mind were not helping, they clouded his senses—made him remember the times his fingers would dig at the sides of the omegas hip, his own lips leaving wet trickling kisses on the omegas soft and pliant body, and his staggering moans that would send Castiel into a fit of pleasure. All of it sent shivers running down Castiel’s spine and then the same old feeling of rage rose in him because all of that was mercilessly snatched from him. 

The rage built up in him, threatening to spill but the scent grounded him. The omega was alive, he reminded himself and his rage turned into something else. Determination, for one—to find him and protect him, and lay down his own life if he so much as asked to reimburse for failing him in the first place. 

Castiel knew what he needed to do—the scent had a source, it started someplace before it spread throughout the forest trail. Castiel just needed to find it.

He needed to turn, and so he did. 

\----------- 

Ever since the brothers left in haste after the heat incident, Bobby had cut all sort of contact with them to be safe. He was expecting something to happen, the Russians could only be that dense. If they were looking, and looking in the right places, it was only a matter of time until they catch up and Bobby had a hunch, his place would be the first to come up on their radar. 

But he still burnt a month’s worth incense and sage to subside Dean’s scent. He might be human but he wasn’t stupid—raising Sam and Dean put a lot of things in perspective for him. He loved the boys and he hated how their life turned out because of the whole pack business and for Dean to be an omega was just the icing on the cake. 

He too wondered what became of Mary, and he hoped to god for the spell to work but that would be if they succeed in finding that little witch first. But if their plan was to backfire, it would break the brothers. He brushed off the thought as soon as it came, they were Sam and Dean—there was nothing those two could not overcome. 

They deserved happiness, they deserved to be in a pack and do whatever it was that wolf-kin do for shits and giggles. They’d been human too long, it was time for them to be what they were, to be wolves. It did seem a little farfetched of a dream but how impossible could it be? 

Bobby grasped how different things could’ve been for the boys if the Winchester and Campbells had taken their heads out of their asses and accepted Russians for the sake of their pups. Both Sam and Dean could’ve had a life but their packs pride got in the way. 

He never really got to know what happened. 

When Mary came to drop the boys off, he remembered how lost she was. How she cried when she kissed Sam and Dean goodbye and made Bobby promise to keep them from harm’s way but even she knew that wouldn’t be possible, not forever. 

Bobby’s heart ached whenever Dean would ask about her, whenever Sam would cry himself hoarse and some days even Karen wouldn't be able to rock him to sleep. 

And then when Karen died in an accident, Dean stopped talking for a whole year. Her loss damn near turned Bobby into an alcoholic but he wouldn’t put the boys through that neglect. Sam was a little too young to comprehend what was going on but Dean lost her as much as Bobby did so Bobby tried to be what he never thought he’d be—a father. 

It was all such a sad affair, to grow up not knowing what happened to your parents, not knowing anything about your personal history. So as insane as it sounded when Dean told Bobby he wanted to bring Mary back, it wasn’t a shocker for him. It was only reasonable to ask for something good in return for living such a horrid life. So Bobby humored them and now they were on the run—life at present of poorer quality than it was before. He partly felt at fault there, maybe if he could’ve defused the idea in Dean’s head before it took the form of purpose, they could’ve avoided the entire Russian shenanigan but maybe it had to happen. Maybe from there they could go somewhere, though he was skeptic about their resurrection plan from the beginning but seeing the resolve in Dean’s eyes, Bobby thought what the hell, let's give it a shot. 

Bobby placed the last of his burning incense in the kitchen by the sink. _This should be enough_ , he thought as he walked to his old couch beneath the window and plopped on it with another odd book from his forming library. Life had become lonely since Karen, and lonelier after Sam and Dean began their escapade on the road. 

He half had the heart to call them and ask if they were okay, alive. But by now they’d have ditched all their phones and aliases. 

He shook his head licking his index finger to turn the dry page and that was when he heard a sort of rustling from outside the window. His heart skipped a beat when he heard another rustle, and then another and then there was silence. The silence was deafening, sort of like a brewing storm and the creaking sound of his porch confirmed that. 

Bobby knew it wasn’t just the wind or his mind playing tricks, whoever it was, he or she were not sneaking in—rather they were opting coming in head first through the front door and that wasn’t something good. 

His hand quickly fell on his gun—luckily he’d made it a habit to always keep it with him with extra silver bullets in his pocket. They tend to do the job against wolves and Russian mafia so really, a win-win. 

Bobby hopped off the couch, his hand gripping the butt of the gun tightly and in the air, pointed right at the door. The door handle started to move impatiently and his breath hitched in his lungs, and before he even knew—the door knob was ripped off from the outside with such force and noise that he winced. 

The door opened, more like pushed away intolerantly like a savage and in walked a disheveled man. Bobby had full mind to shoot but he grimaced at the get up with a look that screamed _‘did you get into a bar fight with a tornado.’_

“Who the fuck are you?” 

Bobby spat eyeing his tousled suit that looked like he put it on in a hurry. The buttons of his white undershirt were honest to god screwed up, a few of them were open and the tattoo on his chest was peeking out just enough but not enough to make out what it was. 

“I asked, who the fuck are you?”

Bobby repeated when he didn’t get a reply out of him. It was odd how he looked at him and around, like he was taking the place in. It was obvious he wasn’t human considering his disinterest in the gun that Bobby was holding and also his strength with which he ripped the door open. 

“My name is Castiel. And I’m looking for the omega.” 

He announced and if Bobby was not Bobby, he would’ve passed out. Because that was no human, hell that was not even a wolf—that was a goddamn hybrid that stood in front of him. He gulped visibly but he didn’t move his gun from his face. 

Another man came strolling behind him and Bobby was not about to have a wolf-kin party in his goddamn house. “Who the fuck is that? How did you find me?” 

Castiel looked amused and turned sideways to say something to him in a foreign language that Bobby guessed was Russian. The man behind him opened his mouth to argue but Castiel said something again with more temperature and he stepped outside immediately. _Oh, he’s mafia alright_. 

“It wasn’t easy to find you. So let’s talk.” He said calmly and Bobby’s eyes ventured all over him, his own fancy guns peeping from underneath his unbuttoned coat, out of his shoulder holster that was loosely slung. 

“You wanna talk?” Bobby grimaced, his arm starting to hurt from holding the gun too long. 

Castiel shrugged, the corners of his mouth turned downwards into a scorn as he walked in further but made a sharp turn into the kitchen. Bobby cursed under his breath, fresh out of options so he just stood there and watched him drag a chair out and place it before him. 

Bobby was perplexed to say the least, the hybrid alpha was sitting on a chair in his hall while he had a gun pointed at his face. That was not something you see daily. 

“The ironclad room you built back there, quiet remarkable.” Bobby didn’t know whether to feel flattered at the compliment or start shooting. He’d tried to rebuild the room after Dean wrecked it in heat to avoid the kind of mishap that was now sitting in front of him—though it seemed like the hybrid didn’t need a weak point in the house to get in. 

“I had a weekend off, now why were you snooping around _my property_?” Bobby snapped, his grip on the gun steadfast. 

“I am not going to hurt you.” He assured with a blank look, tapping his coat for something. “Sit.” He found what he was looking for which oddly enough was his box of cigarette and a lighter. He lit himself one and Bobby’s curiosity piqued, could wolf-kin get addicted to nicotine? “Please.” He added, glancing up at Bobby without lifting his head. 

Bobby obliged and slowly lowered himself onto the couch, without putting his gun down. “What do you want?” It was a stupid question considering he’d already made clear what he wanted. 

“I’m sensing, you’re alone in this house.” Although Bobby would say that he was rather unremarkable for a hybrid, but his voice and presence held volumes of power so he got the general picture. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Bobby rolled his eyes and Castiel actually let out a chuckle and some smoke into the air that was no short of hazardous. “What, you’re gonna kill me?” It came out more as a challenge than a question.

“Kill you? What gives you that idea?” He tilted his head in uncertainty, the smoke enveloped the air around him. Bobby could see right through the bullshit or at least he thought he could. 

“You didn’t rip my door open to just come and talk about your feelings.” 

Castiel huffed, leaning back into the chair. “You think I ripped your door open to come and kill you?” 

“I’d be surprised if you said you didn’t.” He retorted, his finger bracketed over the trigger attentively. 

“I didn’t.” 

“No?” Bobby sarcastically chimed. 

“Notice you’re still breathing?” He countered, blowing smoke through and through.

“Probably because of this.” He pointed at his neck and Castiel’s arcane eyes flicked down at the bite. 

“Yes, you wear the omegas bite, I see. But even if you weren’t, I wouldn’t have killed you.” He said simply and Bobby was not convinced keeping in mind the stuff he’d heard about him—this was a ruthless leader, not some low life wolf-kin or king pin. 

“What, you want me to believe you’d spare me out of the goodness of your heart?” 

“No,’ he said quietly, almost grimly. “There is not much goodness left in my heart, I’m afraid.” 

“Aren’t you the poster boy for righteousness?” Bobby scoffed. 

“For what’s it worth I would, if you tell me about the omega.” He shrugged. 

“And if I don’t?” 

“You can tell me off your own volition or I will bind you and you’ll tell me anyway. It is your choice to make.” 

Bobby clenched his jaw and his fingers tightened around the gun. “If you take so much as a step in my direction, so help me god I will empty all this silver in you.” 

“Take a shot right now. This suit is already ruined.” He said gesturing slackly at his suit, bored. And Bobby really felt like testing the theory about silver hurting the hybrid but he decided otherwise. The last thing he wanted was to poke a bear with a stick. 

“I know why you’re here.” Castiel raised a brow in question, the ashes falling off his cigarette on the floor. “If this is about the flower- 

Castiel shook his head in amusement. “I don’t care about the flower, that’s least of my concerns.” Bobby made a confused face, his thumb rubbing circles on the gun. “I want to find the omega.” 

“So you could kill him or mate him?” 

“I’m sparing you and you think I’ll kill him? Or worse mate him without consent?” He asked, looking somewhat offended. _Talk about a moral code in Russian mafia_ , Bobby thought. 

“You….don’t want to kill them?” Bobby asked, clearly unsure of his intentions. 

“Them?” His ears perked up. “I do sense an alpha’s scent here apart from the omegas, however the omegas scent is….unmated.” His face twisted in an expression Bobby could only believe to be…chilling but his own face twisted in disgust upon hearing that insinuation. _So much for wasting all the incense._

“What is this, HBO? They’re brothers!” He half yelled, clear disgust laced his voice upon which Castiel’s eyed widened in shock, it looked like. That was the first ever reaction he’d gotten from the hybrid. 

“The omega has a brother?” 

“Let me get this straight—you don’t care about the flower, you don’t want to kill or mate the omega, then what do you want? Why are you here, wasting my precious time?” Bobby retorted, irritated. 

“Then get this straight—I don’t want to kill anybody, I don’t care about the flower, what I care about is the omega. He and I, we have unresolved affairs.” He declared though gritted teeth, his voice hoarser than before in a hostile manner and his cigarette is all but broken between his fingers. And Bobby is more confused than he was before. 

“Unresolved affairs? What are you talking about? That kid has been running from everyone that’s wolf-kin since he was a child. He’s never come across any of your kind to have unresolved affairs with, let alone you! Ask me, I raised the kid!” Bobby all but yelled, plainly aggravated, almost forgetting he was talking to a hybrid, though the hybrid didn’t seem to mind. 

“You raised him?” He deadpanned. And Bobby felt the need to roll his eyes to the back of his head. 

“Yes! I raised both the idjits and I don’t know what your deal is, really. But I’ll clarify one thing on their behalf for you, they do not want to kill you. That is not why they took the flower.” The hybrid looked staggered by the revelation to say the least, now which revelation? Bobby couldn’t tell. 

“Who were they running from? Me?” He asked, his jaw slacked in disbelief. “Why?” 

“If you have to ask, you’re too damn dense for a hybrid.” That was all Bobby said and would say to him on the matter because the hybrid couldn’t be that slow. He looked pretty capable of finding everything else on his own. Hell, he found Bobby somehow. The question was, could Bobby trust him?

The room fell silent all of a sudden, the hybrid was processing and in the process of processing, he was smoking like a damn chimney and littering the hall with cigarette ashes. Bobby wanted to throw him off his property but the mighty hybrid alpha looked divergent as it was with his creased brows and parted lips.

“I suppose you won’t give me any additional information about them?” He asked, after too long a silence. His eyes almost soft, and Bobby didn’t know what to make of that look. “But I will find out, regardless.” 

He rose slowly, almost dramatically off the chair and Bobby followed his movement with suspicion. “Tell them, they don’t have to run anymore.” Upon which Bobby’s eyes widened in incredulity but he tried his best not to show his surprise. 

“You’re joking, right?” Castiel shrugged.

“An omega is untouchable in any case, and I never intended to kill anyone. So I assert them _sacrosanct_ from this time on. They will come to no harm, I assure you.” 

Bobby narrowed his eyes and searched his face for duplicity but there was nothing but sincerity in the way he maintained eye contact. “And I’m supposed to trust you? You think I’m a natural born idjit?” Bobby still inquired, irresolute and unconvinced. 

“Trust me or not, it is the truth. I protect my word with my life.” His hands dug loosely into his pockets with a rather determined look on his face. Bobby tilted his head unconsciously, slightly amused hearing him use the word life when he clearly didn't have any regard for it. 

“You’re telling me, you’ll accept them in your pack? Considering, the whole flower river dance?” Bobby frowned, his brows shot up in distrust. 

“Wouldn’t they like to be where they belong? A human life is hardly ideal for even a beta, much less an omega and alpha. And had I known they were running from me for whatever reason, I’d have acted sooner and reached out.” He shrugged, a truthful tone to his voice and Bobby was astonished as hell. 

“Omega, I get—everyone wants a piece of that cake,’ 

“Nobody,’ he cut Bobby off abruptly. “Is going to touch the omega.” Bobby straightened up with narrowed eyes. “He’s not a piece of cake for everyone to share.” 

Bobby almost smiled, _this man wasn’t kidding_. Though he was hard to read with his stoic poker face, Bobby could tell his intentions were somewhat...clear. 

“I get the gist—omega equals untouchable but a rogue alpha is a rogue alpha. Even I know that. And you lot are known for icing even the smallest of threats. Why would you give him a free pass?” 

His expression turned to amusement again as he lingered behind the chair. “I am not my father,’

“You aren’t? Last I checked you wiped out your sub species.” He countered rather quickly and saw the hybrid wince for a split second. 

“They deserved it.” He shrugged. “You feel bad for a cult?” He mocked with a ghost of a smirk on his lips. 

“Just sayin,’ Bobby replied plainly. “You Russians are….well, Russians.” 

“So they keep telling me.” He huffed, leaning forward with his arms fixated on the chair. “But I will reassure you in spite, the alpha will not be harmed.” 

“That is, if you find them.” Bobby smirked, a subtle genuineness to it. “I would tell you, but I have no idea where they are and I don’t trust you…yet.” 

The hybrid offered a smile at that. “You care about them,’ he said almost a little surprised. “That’s good.” He bobbed his head and with a crooked smile, turned away. And strangely enough, when he did turn to walk away, Bobby was still alive. Not a scratch on him which put a great deal in perception. Bobby lowered his gun, watching him walk to the door, his sharp footsteps receding and then he stopped. Bobby thought, _oh the other shoe is about to drop._ And he drew his gun again. 

“I will have someone send you a cheque...for the door."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know your views in the comments. Your comments are most welcome!


	10. Sam Winchester is gone

It certainly paid off that Rowena was in real estate—she was able to sneak them in one of the unsold furnished houses not much further than her own for the time being. It was a classic 2 storey white picket fence type of house and Dean was enormously thrilled to sleep on a comfy bed, the shower pressure apparently was marvelous and he even got Rowena to get him some grocery so he could make sandwiches.

Sam, of course, did what a brother would—made fun of him for being so motherly and domestic. 

Later, the brothers got into a sarcastic argument, many snide comments were made about Sam and his little crush on the redhead witch and to Sam’s own surprise, he found himself actually flushing at the remarks. 

For almost 3 days, they’d been holed up in that house and it was safe to say Dean was having the time of his life. Charlie, on the other hand, made a habit out of unnecessarily coughing when Rowena and Sam were together. It would make Sam wish he were dead--both Dean and Charlie enjoyed tormenting him a little too much. 

It wasn’t like he could help it, Rowena was smart, elegant, and beautiful and to top that all her scent was ethereal. He’d lived with his omega brother all his life and an omega’s scent is said to be the sweetest of them all, and it was. Dean’s scent was wonderful but Rowena’s scent made him weak in the knees. Not to mention his wolf acted out of control in her presence. 

He found himself drawn to her, it was probably because he hadn’t come across a wolf-kin female all his life so his wolf was jumping on the first available option but Sam thought otherwise. 

In just a matter of 3-4 days, they’d bonded over a lot of things. Her intelligence astounded and aroused Sam in ways he didn’t think it was even possible. Initially the only reason they had to even stay was because Rowena needed to interpret the spell and figure out the ingredients, but Sam found himself glad for the time he got to spend with her because he knew none of his feelings could account for anything in the long run. 

However on the 5th day’s morning, Dean woke Sam up by pouring a jug of water on him—wrestle mania ensued and Sam found himself in the hall, wet and in boxers, in the presence of Rowena who was enjoying a cup of tea with Charlie. 

She turned to look at Sam and her lips quirked up in a smile, her intoxicating eyes lit up and to Sam’s embarrassment—he froze. His wolf squirmed under her amused gaze and he found himself impossible to look away.

“Sammy, put some clothes on now would ya? You’re scarring the pretty witch with your giant limbs for life.” Sam snapped out of his trance and blinked downright furiously at Dean who was enjoying the show a little too much. 

“You’ll have to excuse Sam, he’s a dork.” Charlie said fondly earning a simmering glare from him. 

Rowena didn’t say much, a very old book open in front of her, but she did offer a little nod before turning away from him. Sam turned his angry eyes towards Dean who gave him thumbs up and winked at him childishly. 

Sam turned on his heels with an eye roll to go put some clothes on and Dean followed him, leaving the two red heads with their teas. “I did you a solid back there.” 

Sam rolled his eyes again. “What are you talking about, Dean?” 

“Dude, she practically saw you semi nude and wet that has got to awaken something in her. You reek of sex.” He winked again to clearly annoy and Sam gave him his best bitch face #1. (Why his older brother thought everything was about sex escaped him)

“Shut up, Dean” He replied, a faint blush painted his cheeks as he lazily went through his duffle to find himself a clean shirt. 

Dean fell silent but he could feel his eyes on him. “What?” He turned his head to look at Dean who was leaning by the door of his room (well, not his but you get the memo) and he looked like he was figuring out the whole plot of some action movie. 

“Are you gone on her?” He asked, his lips parted and a ghost of a smile tugged onto his lips. “What, it’s been like 5 days and you’re in love?” Dean’s habit of exaggerating every situation wasn’t doing Sam any good. 

“You’re insane.” Sam scoffed not meeting Dean’s eye and avoiding any sudden reactions that Dean could pick on. 

“You can tell me, Sammy. Is it your wolf?” 

It was insane how Dean could sense everything, Sam didn’t know if it was a big brother thing or an omega thing but it was aggravating but at the same time, who’s he even gonna talk to about this stuff? It wasn’t like he was allowed to even contact Bobby to ask if his attraction to a 300 year old wolf-kin witch was normal. 

“It’s nothing, Dean. She’s just very….fascinating.” He sighed, because she really was. There was no lie to it.

Dean didn’t say anything, just nodded—the corners of his lips stretched down. “Well, she’s a 300 year old witch. She ought to be fascinating.” 

“Are we done?” Sam threw his wet shirt over his head and put on the clean one. It was a miracle they even had a washing machine there, it made everything so much easier. Sam wondered how it’d be like to be in some pack and have an apple pie life, not that it was in the cards for him or Dean. 

“Look, I know she’s great. Hell, I’m fascinated by her but,’ he trailed off trying to make a point but Sam already knew where the conversation was going. “I mean, you know we can’t afford emotional attachments, with anyone let alone a wolf-kin witch.” 

Sam turned to look at him, running a hand through his hair unconsciously. “I know, I’m not a kid anymore, Dean. But where does this end?” He asked, gesturing loosely in the air. 

“Where does what end?” 

“All this running, Dean! Have you thought about what we’d do if the spell works? Have you thought about what we’d do if it _doesn’t_ work?” He all but yelled, and Dean gritted his teeth before closing the door behind him. 

“Keep your voice down!” 

“No seriously, Dean, I want to know your grand plan here. We dragged Charlie in this to keep Russians and wolf-kin off our ass and for what? They know now. What’s the point even if the spell works? You plan on keep running from Russians with mom too? You think she’d find it thrilling that her sons resurrected her only for her to live like a renegade?” 

Sam didn’t see it coming but he felt the heaviness of Dean’s knuckles on his jaw as he tumbled back. Of course Dean would resort to violence, he could hardly use his words to voice his feelings but Sam was tired of getting no answers to his questions. 

Sam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand to realize he was bleeding, a split lip or probably his teeth rocked his inner cheek—he couldn’t tell, he didn’t care. He turned to gaze at Dean who had an apologetic look on his face and Sam suddenly felt guilt flare up in him. He said too much, even if every questions were valid, he said too much and he said it wrong. 

Sam didn’t utter a word after and a silence stretched between them—he just watched Dean pace back and forth before he broke the silence. “I am trying here, Sammy. I am trying to find answers, I’m trying to get mom back because I don’t know what else to do! I don’t know who else to ask!” 

Dean’s lips were trembling, he tried to hide the sting but Sam knew his older brother all too well. He knew Dean had issues that were greater than his own because Dean was the omega, not Sam. But all he wanted was for him to talk, let him in so that Sam could understand at least a little. 

“I don’t know, Sam. Really I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’m just making it up as I go.” He admitted and Sam looked away, he didn’t know what else to do, what else to say to his brother. “And you can give me all the hell you want, I dragged you and Charlie into this, I deserve it. But I don’t know what else to do.” 

“I’m tired of running too, you know. I want a family, I want a life, and I want mom back to show us how. I want to know what happened to her, to dad, to our pack. I want to know why she never returned. I want to know everything because we know nothing about our lives, Sam.” He raised his voice but it broke, it shattered Sam to hear him like that. 

“But most of all, I want you to have a mate, a couple of pups, a pack where you’re welcomed, and maybe a degree—even though it all seems damn near impossible but I still want all of that for you. Because you don't deserve to live like this, none of us do!” 

Dean turned his face away from him, rubbing at his eyes and Sam felt like a million needles were prodding his heart. He’d been so selfish that he almost forgot it was Dean, who raised him, made sacrifices so that Sam could go to school and try being normal. And god, he felt terrible. 

“Dean,’ he quietly said, his own voice at the verge of breaking. Dean never let on how hard life was, to be an omega and raise an alpha brother in hiding. Yet all he wanted was for Sam to be happy but Sam had been too self-centered to see.

“We’ll figure it out.” Sam closed the distance between him and Dean and placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. “You and me, both. We’ll figure it out.” 

Sam never wanted to see his brother like that again, and he hated himself for being the one to make him feel so vulnerable. He understood why Dean was doing what he was doing—he understood there was nothing else to do, no one to guide them through the life they were living. So Sam said screw it—screw everything because he knew they’d figure it out. They always do. 

\---------------

Sam didn’t know how he convinced both Charlie and Dean to let him go alone with Rowena to retrieve the ingredients for the spell, but he felt proud that he succeeded. Dean and Charlie both were not big on trusting anyone, but going together sounded unnecessary and suspicious. So Sam volunteered to go—Rowena was quick to accept and Dean and Charlie gave each other a tired knowing look before agreeing. 

Dean of course wouldn’t let them take the impala, so Rowena’s ride it was and Sam wasn’t complaining because it was 1969 Mercury Cougar Eliminator. _“Impala is still superior, you know_.” Dean had said upon Sam’s attempt at comparing the two cars. 

Rowena estimated they should be back next day by noon probably. Her storage box wasn’t too far but that didn’t put Dean’s mind at ease. He still kept nagging how it wasn’t a good idea for him to stay behind but Sam, in a way, trusted Rowena. If she had any ill intentions towards them, she’d have showcased it the moment they stepped into her house. 

Even Dean, who could get a read on a person through their scents hadn’t said anything. But he still was concerned in his own brotherly way like always. 

“Ready to go, Samuel?” Sam turned his attention from his brothers rambling to Rowena who had now changed her outfit to better suit being on the road. She was fancy like that, Sam had come to know. And now she wore a plain black women’s suit, with a mahogany undershirt and her red hair smoothly flowed down her shoulders, no longer in curls. A smile tugged at his lips and he realized he was gawking at her. 

“Yes,’ he replied, looking away quickly—embarrassed. “I-I’m ready. Let’s go.” He nodded shyly, slinging his duffle on his shoulder loosely before giving both Dean and Charlie tight hugs. 

“Be careful, don’t do something I wouldn’t do.” Charlie winked and waved at Rowena to make her point. Both the redheads had begun to get along quite well. 

“Charlie, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do.” He pointed out knowing her preferences and her sexual occurrences, one would say, that had transpired in their time together. 

And with that, they were off. 

A feeling of extraordinary contentment rose in his chest, or maybe it was his wolf glad to be close to her. But his wolf and he were not different entities, if his wolf was glad for the close contact, it meant he was too. 

Throughout the ride with her, his wolf fidgeted rather happily, something Sam had never experienced before. And Sam indulged himself in her grimoires, stealing glances of her every now and then and hoping she was oblivious to them. 

But they couldn’t ride in silence forever, so he broke it with a question and it seemed like Rowena was expecting it. “Can I as you a personal question?” 

Rowena glanced at him for a split second before fixating her eyes back on the road and shrugged. “I uh, I heard you were royalty in Scotland. Now I don’t know what that means but uh, do you miss it?” 

“Hardly,’ she frowned. “Being royalty wasn’t exactly….royal.” 

Sam felt a tragic back story was in order but it would make sense--nobody lives happy for 3 centuries. “Do you resent Russians for what they did to your home country? Must be hard.” 

She was quiet for some time, Sam immediately regretted pushing because her scent began to fade into nothing which sent Sam into a state of alarm. Maybe he’d offended her, maybe she hated him now—said a little intrusive voice in his head. 

“I was betrothed to the alpha of Scotland. And he, well let’s just say, he was a madman—a tyrant,’ she glanced at Sam whose eyebrows were halfway across his forehead. “He was violent and cruel in every sense of word so no, I don’t resent the Russians.” 

Sam’s heart clenched in his chest and a feeling of rage came over him. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she’d been through but to see her strong despite everything, brought a sense of comfort to him. She ultimately survived the worst that much he could tell. 

“I am sorry, I had no idea.” Sam expressed his ache in a soft voice and Rowena smiled forlornly at him.“What you said about my brother being happy, did you see it?” He asked, absentmindedly flipping the pages of the book in his hand in an attempt to change the subject but realized he imposed a touchy question. 

“I can’t say I did, but being a seer—you don’t have to always see it. You can feel it too.” 

“Do you really think he’ll be happy?” 

She turned to face him, the dim fading light of the sun graced her pale skin. “You as well, my dear.” 

Seeing her smile so kindly at him, Sam smiled ear to ear at the revelation. Hearing it from Rowena gave him a kind of hope, that maybe life wouldn’t be so hard anymore. Maybe the spell would work, and they’d be happy or it wouldn’t work and they’d still be happy. It didn’t feel realistic but that’s the thing about hope, it’s hardly realistic. 

The rest of the ride was easy, Rowena and Sam fell into a comfortable talking rhythm where Sam asked her questions and she was more than happy to indulge him. They even joked a little, and Sam told her about Dean and Charlie teasing him for having taken such an interest in her. 

_“But what can I say, you’re an interesting woman.”_ Sam’s attempts at flirting were met with smiles and playful shoves, he himself was a self-conscious mess but it no longer felt too much or awkward. 

They briefly stopped for dinner at some diner and Sam started to have a mid life crisis seeing Rowena seated at the opposite side of the booth, laughing heartily at some dumb joke he unconsciously made. It was undeniable, the chemistry they harbored since the moment they met and he replayed the conversation he had with Dean in his head, where he asked him if he was gone on her. 

It was too soon to be gone on her, but he couldn’t reject the magnetism he felt towards her. So he asked, “Why are you helping us, Rowena?” 

Rowena looked up from her salad at him through her long lashes, a little startled at the sudden question. “It’s the right thing to do, I suppose.” She replied, picking at a strand of lettuce. 

“Is it? You don’t believe the spell would work and yet you’re going to such lengths to humor us.” 

“I believe in magic, I believe in prophecy.” She responded, a raw purpose laced her sharp features like she spoke from familiarity. “It might work or it might not, either way it’ll lead all of us to our destiny. Each person one comes across isn’t without reason, Samuel, all our fates are entwined.” 

Sam huffed bitterly playing with his own pasta, looking back at both his brother and his own life. “I don’t believe in destiny.” 

“I can believe for the both of us.” She offered and Sam’s knees weakened at the thought. He smiled shyly before digging into his food and they enjoyed a quiet and relaxed companionable silence until they finished their respective meals. 

Sam being the gentleman that he was, offered to pay and almost called it a date but before he could slip, he took control of his tongue to avoid anymore mortification on his part. On their way out, an old waitress had stopped to compliment the lovely couple they made upon which Sam almost tripped and Rowena let out a sweet laugh. Both of them didn’t deny the allegation, rather Sam bobbed his head and mouthed a shy thank you to the waitress. 

\------------

“So, what are the rest of the ingredients?” Sam asked pacing around the moderately large storage touching everything within an arm’s reach even after Rowena had swatted his hand from the curse boxes. Everything about Rowena and her grotesque storage filled with magical boxes, rocks and curses intrigued Sam. 

“Well, you’d find them most…anomalous, I believe.” Rowena replied from the distance and Sam chuckled. Like his life wasn’t the most abnormal thing ever. 

“Try me.” 

“For one, we’d need the flower. Then the dirt of the same flower,’ Upon which Sam’s brows furrowed in worry. 

“We have that right?” He asked, cautiously because he was not about to go to Mexico again to fetch the dirt.

“Yes, we do, luckily.” She affirmed and Sam sighed relief. “And then the usual—fur of a hellhound, an angel’s feather and a leviathan’s fang.” She casually said and Sam realized what she meant by ‘anomalous.’ 

“That’s oddly specific.” He muttered. 

“All spells are oddly specific, my dear.” She asserted and Sam came across a curse box which he mysteriously felt compelled to open, so he quickly moved towards Rowena before he could fuck something up, royally. 

“There should be a rational explanation as to why.” He went and sat on the little stool by the table where Rowena was gathering her stuff. 

“There sort of is,’ she acknowledged without looking up at Sam from her task, but Sam watched her which he later thought was creepy. “Since wolf-kin are half human, half wolves—it is a matter of dispute where they go after they die. Humans go to heaven or hell, depending on their virtue. Monsters go to purgatory, but we’re not quite monsters, nor are we complete humans so where do we go?” It was then she glanced at Sam who listened intently with utter fascination. 

“Hence, we need relics from heaven, hell and purgatory for the resurrection because we’re not fairly sure where wolf-kin go in death. It could be either of the places and the spell needs to find a soul to bring back.” She explained and Sam’s brain ticked, it made sense however crazy it sounded. 

“What about the flower? Is there a back story to that as well?”

Sam asked eagerly, wanting to absorb everything he could from her because she sure knew a lot also he liked hearing her talk, and the way her lips twisted at some words. Again, it was creepy but well, it’s not like he could help it. 

“There is but it’s regarded as a myth.” She began clearly aware of Sam’s eyes that roamed all over her. “They say the hybrid was the first of us, the very first, almost a god. It was when he mated with the first omega did the alpha and beta came into being.” 

“The hybrid couldn’t be killed of course, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem arose after a few centuries when another hybrid was sired and well, let’s just say, he wasn’t as nice. He was evil, and immortal. In time they say, he overthrew the old hybrid, and the wolf-kin prayed for liberation and the gods answered their prayers with more misery.” 

“The gods have a wicked sense of humor,’ she chuckled darkly before turning her gaze at Sam, who looked at her intently. Like if he removed his eyes from her, he’d miss the story. “The old hybrid died of natural causes, perhaps old age, leaving behind his omega and his people to fend for themselves. But his death wasn’t in vain after all—the dirt of his grave forged a weapon against the hybrid. Valerianella Affinis.” 

“Wow, that’s…I mean wow,’ Sam chuckled in marvel. “So who killed the hybrid?” 

“It was the widower, the omega who wielded the blade blessed by the flower against the hybrid.” 

“And what, the omega won?” He asked dumbfounded. “Aren’t hybrids supposed to be all powerful?” 

Rowena shrugged, filling in her final bag. “You know they say the omega is a piece of god, and a grieving god is much like a wounded lion—wounded but a lion regardless.” 

“You don’t think it’s a myth.” Sam observed, taking the heavy bags from her struggling hands in his own. 

She flashed her pearly teeth into a big smile and Sam’s heart clenched for all the right reasons. “I _know_ it’s not.” 

Sam nodded, almost forgetting the stunning woman in front of him was a seer and a witch with centuries of understanding and knowledge that Sam didn’t have. It was such a wacky thing to get your mind across but well, his big brother was a god apparently and they were about to bring their mother back into the world, and Sam was attracted to a 300 year old witch so sure, it wasn’t as wacky as he thought it was. 

\--------------

True to their word, Rowena and Sam were back a little after noon. If they’d been a little more late, Dean would’ve eaten Charlie’s brain by nagging every minute, not that he didn’t nag at all throughout the duration Sam was chumming with Rowena. 

He knew his kid brother was absolutely smitten by the redhead to the point of no return, even Charlie could see it. And as motherly as he found Rowena to be, he thought Sam to be a little too young for her but well, she sure didn’t look her age so there was that, he supposed. 

“What’s with the bell boy look?” Dean snickered having seen Sam with Rowena’s one too many bags. Sam obviously pulled his patented bitch face #7 and shoved past him to the kitchen where Dean heard Charlie tormenting him further about the honeymoon road trip. 

Dinner was served, none other than meat lovers pizza with extra bacon and a side of large fries. Dean and Charlie had taken pity on the smitten lover boy and taken it upon themselves to bring dinner—none of Sam’s healthy cob salad shit was going to work, the kid would have to eat real grub or nothing. 

“It’s like clogged arteries on a silver platter,’ Sam whined and Dean wanted to unpatent one of his patented bitch faces and pull a Sam on Sam. 

“Clogged arteries? You’re a friggin wolf, Sammy! You aint dying a human death.” 

“But it still doesn’t hurt to eat a fruit once in a while, Dean!” Dean rolled his eyes, faintly mimicking him with a mouthful of pizza. Charlie let out a chortle and nearly choked when Sam glared at her. 

During all the niggling between them around the table, Rowena gracefully and much absentmindedly climbed down the stairs in one of her fancy but casual maxi gowns. The old spell book in her hand had her full attention and her hair were neatly braided this time. Dean half wondered how she had time to be so posh all the damn time and it was then his eyes wandered at his brothers face who was downright gawking at her like a hawk. 

“Smitten.” Charlie muttered under her breath breaking Sam out of his trance and Dean wanted to kinda gag a little because that shit was straight out of a shitty rom-com. All the staring when the other isn’t looking, shy glances and blushing was so idealistic but there he was, witnessing the havoc with his own two eyes. 

Rowena’s eyes didn’t leave the book even as she quietly walked and took a seat beside Sam, pointing something out to him from the book. “Get a room, you two!” Dean mouthed and Charlie threw a fry playfully at Sam who was speaking volumes with his expressions alone which was comical. 

“Okay boys, if we’re done with the teasing. Let’s get to work.” Rowena chimed with a smile and Dean and Sam both straightened up quickly. 

“What you got, Rowena?” Dean rubbed and dusted his hands at his shirt and seated himself across Rowena and Sam. Charlie followed almost immediately with her laptop, which was always open. Always. 

“Well, the ingredients are all here.” She patted at the duffle bags lazily sprawled on the table. “What we need now is ‘ _the blood of her blood’_ which would be your blood or Sam’s though I’d prefer you use yours,’ she pointed at Dean with her chin, clutching the spell book to her chest. “And something that belonged to her—I take it you boys might have a remainder of her, however small.” 

Dean glanced at Sam for a hot minute as mixed feelings made home in him. Thrill? Happiness? Fear? He didn’t quite know but he nodded. “Okay, so when do we do this?” Dean asked, his hands fidgeting with each other. 

“Not we, my dear. You’re going to have to do this spell under a full moon, both of you.” Dean saw that much coming, it wasn’t like he could complain. “It’s a matter of intent so I can’t help you there. Neither can Charlie.” 

“We get it, Rowena.” Sam bobbed his head towards her with a small smile before turning his head towards Dean for confirmation. A silent _we can do this, right?_ Dean nodded his confirmation, his intrusive thoughts roaring in his mind.

“What’s your 20 on the Russians, Charlie? Any movement?” 

“Not that I can tell, no. But then again, they’re unpredictable mothers with a damn good system.” She replied and Dean wondered if it’d be okay to call Bobby and ask if he was alright. Charlie sensed the thought having known and lived with Dean throughout and shook her head in negative. 

So that was it then, do or die. They had the spell, the ingredients, the direction and a part of him felt happy and the other part felt terrified. He needed a win, after everything, he deserved a win. 

The Russian angle of the situation scared him, for Sam and for Charlie and to some extent for himself too. He sort of did realize that if he wanted he could actually settle down, it’s not like Russians wouldn’t worship his bare ass but for obvious reasons it seemed like the most terrible idea for Sam and Charlie’s sake. 

Besides, there was a lot he didn’t know about them. What he knew was, that they were cold, ruthless, and that they would shoot Sam on sight on the basis of him being a rogue alpha and from the Winchester-Campbell pack which they marked rogue. 

“You realize the wolf-kin won’t shed blood where you’ve walked?” Rowena pitched in having probably seen the worry written on Dean’s face. It was still odd that Dean couldn’t scent her. “Russians included.” She added with her customary smirk. “Especially Russians.” At that point Dean knew she was downright teasing him. 

“They’d kill Sam…and Charlie. You said it yourself so no thank you to whatever it is you’re implying.” Dean retorted. 

He always was conscious of the witch’s awareness concerning himself, she seemed to know much more than she let on and for that he was kinda thankful. The last thing he wanted was to have a heart to heart with a witch, he wasn’t Sam and he sure wasn’t about to buy two separate conditioners to see which better suit his hair. 

“I’m not implying anything. Just that if you ask, I’m sure Castiel would see reason.” 

“He would?” Sam beat him to it but he wondered if the alpha really would. 

“I was born at night, Rowena, but it wasn’t last night.” He sarcastically jerked up a finger in her direction. “I know every packs stance on rogue alphas and I’m not about to put Sam in danger.” He declared with finality _that this is it, no more talking about the strange Russian alpha with an even stranger name_. 

“I don’t think I myself would agree putting Samuel in any danger, but this could solve your problem in the long run. You can’t expect to run and hide forever, I don’t think either of you can. Sooner or later your need to be with a pack will bleed into your structure. What then?” 

She explained nonchalantly, unconsciously leaning into Sam and Dean’s eyes drifted in thought towards his brother, who was flushing beside her with the colors of the sun. And Dean good naturedly rolled his eyes glancing with a knowing expression towards Charlie who was smiling. 

Dean couldn’t argue with her on that, it wasn’t like she was lying. It was a fact that being away from the comfort of a pack was bad for all wolf-kin, now they had lead human lives since they were kids so maybe they’d gotten used to the sentiment of being and living like normal humans. Either way Dean wasn’t going to admit out in the open that he’s thought about a pack, a family, more often than he’d care to admit. 

Sam, on the other hand, really looked like he was considering going through with the idea. “I am not ready to take this big a leap of faith. For all we know, mom died because of them.” 

“We don’t know anything about what happened to mom, Dean. Don’t forget it weren’t the Russians that killed dad, what makes you think it weren’t our people who killed mom too?” 

Sam was doing his puppy dog patented look #3 and Dean was at the verge of snapping his scissors right over Sam’s hair. _Dude, never knows when to stop!_

“I’ve kept away from wolf-kin business for the longest but even I know the Winchesters and Campbells were doomed the moment they submitted to Azazel.” Rowena chimed in her smug audacity. 

“So what, Russians are suddenly good now?” Dean made a face at her, but he could see Sam pulling his defensive bitch face #1 from the corner of his eyes. 

“Nobody is good anymore, Dean.” Sam replied in her stead. “But we’d never know if we don’t try to know.” 

“Sam,’ Dean uttered in warning. “Not now, okay?” 

Sam rubbed his face petulantly before shrugging and getting the hell out of the room. _Talk about drama_ , Dean rolled his eyes. Rowena followed him out moments later and Dean was sure they were having heart to hearts now that Sam’s found a confidant. 

“Dean,’ He felt Charlie’s comforting hand on his shoulder that slid down and bracketed Dean’s arm into hers. “I hate to say this, but Sam’s right.” 

Of course, Sam was right. Even he knew Sam was right to some extent—the running couldn’t go on any more, but the idea was too bizarre for Dean’s liking. 

“It’s too risky, Charlie. I can’t put you and Sam in jeopardy just because a witch said it was okay to.” 

Charlie heaved a sigh and placed her head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean smiled at the sudden surge of affection from Charlie and leaned into the touch. “You know Rowena has grown to care about _Samuel_.” She mimicked rolling her eyes and Dean let out a chortle. It was a spot on Rowena impression. 

“I know but these are the people we have effectively avoided all our lives so paint me fucking terrified about Rowena and Sam’s joint suggestion.” He groaned, his head falling slump into his hands. 

“I don’t know, I mean it isn’t like the Russians wouldn’t worship your bare ass on an alter.” Dean let out a staggering laugh at the choice of her words and realized she was as much a Winchester now as Sam was. “Hell I’m sure the hybrid would willingly give you his throne…if you let him drill and I’m talking about the sexy kind of drilling.” 

She winked at him teasingly and Dean grimaced pushing her away. “You are so _gross_!” 

“Look, all I’m saying is that you think about it okay? This may sound bizarre now but maybe in a few years you’d look back and pat yourself on the back for going through with it—you know, a life, a sexy mate, a couple wittle pups,’ She cooed and Dean had half a heart to shove her down the couch but he let her pull him into her again. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He dismissed her and as tempting as the idea felt, Dean knew he wouldn’t find it in himself to actually go through with it. 

Convincing a knothead alpha to spare his brother’s life just so they can have a pack life? No thank you, Dean had already encountered his fair share of arrogant men in his life on the road and he wasn’t about to beg an alpha, or use his omega privileges to save their lives. He’d rather just live on the run, consequences be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe Cas & Dean will meet by chap 12 or 13, no promises. I'm just going where the story is taking me so please bear with me.  
> Let me know in the comments if you like Sam/Rowena because i absolutely loved their chemistry in the show. Even though I myself dont ship them much but I was like oh well, lets try it and I'm actually starting to get the hang of it! 
> 
> Anyways, my tumblr is @theexoddess  
> Come say hi!


	11. Brother's Keeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're close folks! They will meet very very soon! 
> 
> And the name Partridge--was used in spn by Mary as an alias so I used it here as well. It only made sense!  
> And here's a little Nikolas and Gabriel edit for ya'll. I love their relationship so much!
> 
> FYI: I wrote this chapter in a hurry, i was super sick but i wanted to post so please excuse the mistakes (if you find any)  
> THANKS!

“So, the omega was there with his alpha brother?” Gabriel furrowed his brows rocking back and forth in the office chair. “Which means there is an alpha in the picture.” He muttered distractedly, the tapping of keyboard keys echoed in the room. 

“He is _sacrosanct_ , Gabriel. Do not think what you’re thinking.” Castiel informed in warning, his blue eyes burning a hole in Gabriel’s. 

Gabriel frowned raising his hands in surrender, clearly his hybrid brother didn’t need to be reminded their standpoint against rogue alphas. 

Upon his return, for which Gabriel was eternally grateful, Castiel called an unexpected meeting. Uriel had filled Gabriel in on whatever he could and Gabriel laughed his ass off at the part where Uriel was trying to keep up with Castiel when he shifted in the woods. Apparently, he stripped and made Uriel hold his suit while he followed the scent in his wolf form—it had comical values for Gabriel obviously. 

“Where are we with Mr. Singer?” Castiel turned in his chair to face Cecily who was relentlessly typing and adjusting her spectacles every minute. 

“Town drunk, owns an auto shop, a deceased wife, no next of kin—no sign that he raised two boys.” She affirmed leaning back, clicking her pen continuously, a hint of nervousness in her even now. 

“So he cleaned up good.” Nikolas shrugged earning a thoughtful hum from Castiel who was inclined back at ease in his chair. 

“Dig deeper, get me the name of every man woman associated with Bobby Singer.” Cecily nodded and got to work promptly. 

“If he raised two pups, he had to have a solid connection with some American pack.” Gabriel was thinking out loud at this point, and Castiel seemed to concur. 

“I am positive he did. He knew too much.” Castiel agreed, his stare fixated at nothing. “He said they were running even before they took the flower.” 

“Running from who? Us?” Nikolas grimaced from the couch, sprawled on it like he constantly was. 

Gabriel’s brain clicked like a bulb lit up over his head. “See, if they were running from us even before the whole flower shenanigan, it could mean they’re from a pack we don’t like—didn’t like.” 

“Gabriel, the packs we don’t or didn’t like don’t exist.” Nikolas pointed out fiddling with his phone, unbothered bastard. 

“Exactly!” He exclaimed eagerly turning to Castiel who was squinting his eyes and craning his neck in puzzlement. _Seriously, I’m the only one with brains_ —Gabriel thought rolling his eyes. “The pack is no more because there is no pack!”

And he no longer was the one with brains either. 

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Nikolas chortled and Gabriel suddenly regretted saying that out loud. It sounded better in his head. 

“What are you saying, Gabriel?” Castiel demanded with his usual unsmiling face. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes again before mounting from his chair. Maybe he’d be able to enlighten them better standing up. 

“I’m saying that, the reason they ended up being raised by a human is because something happened to their pack, something that we did. Think about it, why else would they still be running? Because they are from a pack we had a bone to grind with. And tell me, why did we have beef with some American packs when we took America in the first place?” 

“Because they won’t submit?” Nikolas replied indecisively, his face in a frown as always. 

“Bingo! And what did we do to the packs that didn’t submit?” Gabriel asked, waggling his brows at Castiel whose lips were parted—that meant he was catching on. 

“We marked them rogue.” Castiel almost gasped and Gabriel’s chest puffed with pride because hell, he was intelligent. “They’re from a rogue pack.” 

“It fits.” Gabriel shrugged all pridey and smiley.

Castiel nodded, a small crooked smile coming over his lips, almost coming over his lips. It did make sense, but several questions still remained—what was this omegas deal? Why’d he steal the flower? Was it the same omega? Though Castiel had been sure in his own way however this guy was apparently _raised_ so it possibly couldn’t be the same omega. Nevertheless, Gabriel knew better than to voice the following concerns, Castiel wasn’t stupid—it couldn’t be feasible for him to overlook such doubts, if anything Castiel almost certainly was more agitated than Gabriel. 

Soon Kevin was brought in too from wherever he was—he looked wasted so he probably was having a good time on their payroll. He straightened up pretty quick when he heard Castiel’s voice, his brother did have that effect on people with his stoicism. 

“Do what it takes, pull me the archive files on American packs father marked rogue.” 

Gabriel settled in and watched Kevin do a whole damn ritual—cracking his knuckles and neck, downing a whole mug of coffee, taking 2 Tylenols before getting to work alongside Cecily. 

Gabriel leaned backwards in his chair and directed his attention towards Castiel trying to get a read on him. He might have avoided casualties on his lone escapade but that didn’t mean they were out of deep waters. If anything, with Naomi’s arrival it only meant they were about to tread deeper and more dangerous waters. 

His phone chimed all of a sudden and he looked down to see a text from Nikolas, who sat with his face away from him gazing out the glass into the day. 

> _We should tell him._

Gabriel heaved a sigh, rubbing at his temples. Then another text: 

> _Before he hears it from Hester._

Gabriel clicked his tongue, fingers still rubbing the side of his head. He was right of course, they should be the one to tell him because god knows how pissed he’d be if he heard it from elsewhere. 

His fingers hovered over the keypad for a moment. He eyed Castiel and his tensed shoulders and his all over state, there was no way he’d take the news civilly. 

> _Not yet. Talk to Hester._

He heard a faint _‘tch’_ escape Nikolas’ lips upon which he let out an exasperated puff. _What a way to talk about your brother with your other brother_. He felt like a damn child but Castiel usually doesn’t leave him with much of a choice. 

> _Why me?_

Gabriel rolled his eyes and shot another text:

> _You wanna babysit our baby bro instead?_ _:)_

The smiley of course was a warning more than it was an offer. He couldn’t even begin to think Castiel and Nikolas on the tables of decision making. Castiel would say war and Nikolas would ask where? Or better yet, Castiel would say jump and Nikolas would ask how high? 

> _This is a bad idea._

Gabriel couldn’t agree more. It really was but one problem at a time was his motto. He sighed and put his phone down to see Castiel had already opened a mini bar on his table and it wasn’t even 2 in the noon. More reasons for him to not bring up Castiel’s potential arranged marriage, not when he was dangerously indulged in finding the love of his life. 

The whole condition was dangerously ironic. 

Shortly Kevin pulled the pack files which apparently were a pain to do—many American pack related files were lost in the regimen change, but Kevin and Cecily both were hired for the impossible technical job that was cracking hardass firewalls deep within their own system. And Gabriel felt proud to have suggested Cecily for the hire in the first place although Castiel had really been a bitch about it. He was thankful he didn’t murder her on the first meeting alone. 

Most packs didn’t really put up any resistance to the regime change that followed after Azazel’s death. They were more than happy to oblige to the Russian rule so the list of packs that were marked rogue had to be seemingly low. Most packs were zeta packs of course, they used to be in abundance in America but that was before Castiel stepped foot on American soil for good and gunned each one down himself. No questions asked. 

“Minus all the zeta packs, tell me what remains.” Castiel edicted, pacing back and forth close to the glass—contemplativeness to his posture and scent both. 

Nikolas glanced at Gabriel warily, his expression screaming ‘ _oh well, it’s happening_.’ A part of Gabriel was glad that it was, that they were getting close but another logical part of him said otherwise naturally. He knew the many looming adversities were circling over them, and he wanted nothing more than to have this omega situation wrapped up. 

“Packs Milton, Roman, Shurley, Lafitte, Winchester and Campbell were marked extensively rogue though the Lafittes later yielded,’ Kevin announced, his eyes glued and squinting at the screen. 

“The Miltons drowned in their arrogance, Romans were no different.” Nikolas absentmindedly said though he might just be thinking out loud. Castiel was deep in his judgment and Gabriel had already done the groundwork to intervene anymore so he sat back and watched—waiting for the inevitable blast. 

“The Miltons and Romans, their genetic code couldn’t have been strong enough to sire an omega and an alpha from the same womb. And Pack Shurley itself was no stranger to abundance in betas.” Castiel affirmed, and Gabriel agreed. 

“Which leaves the obvious elephant in the room that nobody talks about—the clash between the Winchesters and Campbells.” Gabriel decided to arbitrate after all. 

“Well, what’s there to talk about? They practically cancelled each other out.” Nikolas shrugged. 

But Castiel knew what Gabriel was talking about.

“Kevin would you please email me the Winchester and Campbell files?” Castiel asked removing his coat from his chair in finality. “And Cecily, the list of people in association with Mr. Singer—I expect that’d be ready soon?” 

He whirled his coat around him, eyes fixated on Cecily in question and in reply she nodded with a perceptible ‘ _Of course.’_ And Castiel walked out the office, Gabriel had to follow of course—that was kinda his life now—stop his douchebag family from doing douchebag things. 

He gave Nikolas a quick ‘ _talk to Hester before she talks to Castiel’_ look and Nikolas groaned in understanding. It was a good way to converse about your sibling without saying any coherent words when the sibling in question is your reckless alpha brother. 

\--------------- 

The sense of smell kicked in first—Freesia. It was always Freesia. So thick in the air that it activated the sense of taste next—sweetness of a dessert that Castiel could taste off his lips. And then there was the vision—his eyes opened to the forest, all green and luscious in its glory except it wasn’t the forest, it was the green of his eyes. Alive and smiling and everything Castiel held on for dear life. 

He blinked. In wonder. In love. In warmth. And in peace. 

And it all staled. All it took was a blink. 

The scent of Freesia turned to ash, the taste of dessert turned metallic in his mouth, and all he saw was red. All he heard were distant screams of his name and the beating of his own heart—until it stopped. 

And Castiel opened his eyes in his room in the Kansas pack house. His own panting echoed the silent room, his shirt and sheets drenched in sweat like he’d slept and dreamt for years in that very bed. 

_“It gets easier.”_ His father told him once in a moment of weakness and for the longest he thought maybe it would. He woke up each day with an ache in his chest, and slept hoping it would disappear in the morning. But it never did. That morning never came. 

And it probably never will. Not until he finds the omega, not until he dies trying. But that was just the thing, he couldn’t even die right. It was all a massive joke, and Castiel was the punch line. 

But how cruel does a god have to be—to force life on someone who dreams of death every night. 

\----------------- 

When Castiel made his way to his office in the Kansas pack house around 8pm, he saw Gabriel was already there—splayed on the couch, his arm dangling off it and his mouth open and drooling. Castiel let out an exasperated sigh. Gabriel almost never left him alone, it was worst than having a bodyguard follow you around. 

He turned the light on and Gabriel shook awake rather dramatically. Castiel almost ignored him when he walked through the room towards his desk and turned his laptop on to check his mail. 

He’d been too tired after the meeting considering his sleeping schedule, he also felt kinda jetlagged having drowned himself in whiskey and vodka on his way back from South Dakota. So after the meeting he went straight for his bed—sleep never came easy but he knew he’d lose his mind if he didn’t try. 

“You’re sleeping in my office now, of all places?” He asked, without removing his eyes off his laptop screen. Gabriel was still rubbing sleep from his eyes but that obviously didn’t stop him from making a sharp amusing comment. 

“What can I say? I missed ya!” Upon which Castiel felt the need to roll his eyes but he did so, internally. 

“Иногда ты заставляешь меня хотеть убить тебя.” Castiel muttered distractedly going through the many unread emails from god knows where and realized why he really needed Hester in the first place. 

“Only sometimes? Pfttt, if I wasn’t your brother you’d have had me killed a very long time ago.” Castiel looked up at him this time as Gabriel shuffled and settled in the chair parallel to him. 

“You’re not wrong.” He shrugged and Gabriel almost opened his mouth to protest in his own snarky way but decided otherwise. He does enjoy the harmless banter with Gabriel and Nikolas at times when his own burdens feel a bit weightless but tonight was no such occasion. Quite the opposite in view of the nightmare he’d dragged himself out of just a few hours ago. 

“So, are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” 

Gabriel asked after weighing the silence, his restless leg syndrome kicking in. Castiel heaved a loud sigh, and leaned back into his chair away from his laptop—his lips pursed into a thin line. He assessed there were a lot of things that went unchecked about the whole tussle between Winchesters and Campbells and now a possibility hung heavy in the air—that the omega and the alpha could be from the Winchester and Campbell bloodline. Of course, the whole thing with the omegas scent being identical to Castiel’s omega was a different anecdote entirely.

“I can’t seem to make sense of it.” Castiel admitted after moments of silence. 

“Well, you were too engrossed in slaughter.” He chuckled but straightened quickly when Castiel didn’t humor his humor. “But it wouldn’t be impossible. Sure, we were too busy taking America but the way things ended between both the packs was kinda iffy to say the least.” 

Castiel clenched his jaw out of habit as his eyes wandered around the room in deliberation. “Surely, the Campbells didn’t assist us without cause—it wasn’t just that they wanted to discard Azazel. I realize now, their reasoning was deeper than that.” 

“That’s what I thought. Because see, the Winchesters and Campbells were like the hero and heroine from a ludicrous romantic Shakespeare play—two bodies and one soul sorta shit and for one of them to betray the other? It wasn’t just about that prick Azazel.” 

For thinking out loud, Gabriel sure was making sense. Castiel bobbed his head slowly, still leaning back in his comfy office chair—his fingers rose to his lips to play with, vaguely in thought. 

“They were protecting someone from Azazel.” Castiel concluded, his fingers still wandering about his chin. 

“Precisely!” He snapped his fingers in agreement, grinning. “The Campbells wanted to yield but the Winchesters were loyal to Azazel so they wouldn’t budge—and then all hell broke loose.”

“That is when father marked them rogue.” Gabriel nodded in answer. “He hardly had the patience to deal with their internal altercation, even though the Campbells favored us enough to betray the Winchesters.” 

“Yeah, good old dad, I guess.” Gabriel shrugged. 

“But then again we weren’t the ones that eliminated either of the pack. They did so themselves.” 

“And dad said good riddance.” Gabriel scoffed as he got up, dragged his chair around the table and adjusted it right beside Castiel’s. “But all of these theories account to nothing if we don’t find the evidence in records so I suggest you open up those emails.” 

Castiel glared at Gabriel, visibly annoyed as he settled down in his chair beside him. He wondered if Gabriel was body guarding him secretly but that would be absurd. Gabriel could hardly bodyguard himself, though he was good with his brains—that much he’d give his brother. 

In the next hour, Gabriel and Castiel were both slumped on the couch. Castiel was going through the pack files, and Gabriel had taken over the list of people associated with Bobby Singer on his own laptop. Castiel realized he would rather drink himself into the oblivion than go through with the task at hand ever again but just this once was an exception. 

Gabriel of course drank wine and ate chocolates in his weight which was sickening to even witness up close. But it was Gabriel so Castiel didn’t really have to worry about him dying of sugar overdose—even if he did, Castiel was sure his brother would haunt him. There was no escaping Gabriel. 

“Could be nothing, but there is a Mary Partridge here. Apparently she’d sent Bobby a couple cheques all throughout the end of…1996.” 

Castiel’s brows furrowed at his own screen before he turned to face Gabriel. “I have heard that name before.” Old recollections were pretty vague in Castiel’s mind. “We took America in 1996.” He muttered to himself.

“It sounds like an alias.” Gabriel grimaced at the screen and Castiel was still trying to force his mind to remember because he could swear he’d known and come across someone by that name. 

And then it clicked. Castiel’s expressions loosened and his eyes widened as he frantically typed _‘Mary Campbell’_ on his laptop within the Campbell file. 

His lips parted in anticipation as he waited for the results and Gabriel scooted towards him clearly sensing his impatience. 

“Mary Campbell?” Gabriel asked leaning towards the screen where her file opened. “You know her?” 

Castiel leaned back with a thump with his jaw dropped to the ground. It wasn’t still much clear to him but it made sense, to some extent. “She came to Russia a little after Abel and Azazel usurped Cain, on the Campbells behalf.” 

“Wait, she was our contact within Azazel’s inner circle?” Gabriel asked in disbelief pointing at the blonde woman on the screen. 

“She was mated to John Winchester, and the Winchester Pack was one of the first few packs to accept Azazel as the American alpha after Cain.” Castiel replied, still leaned back, his thoughts running wild but Gabriel’s reaction confirmed he wasn’t privy to this information. 

“Seriously, you’re telling me this chick helped us take the capital from inside?” He was on his feet now, the many chocolate wrappers falling to the ground from his lap and Castiel glared at him, silently conveying that there’d be hell to pay if his office is littered anymore so. 

“You didn’t know? That’s hard to believe.” Castiel scoffed before returning his gaze to the screen. 

“No I know, but I didn’t know it was a Campbell woman. Damn. How come you know and I don’t?” Castiel smirked, knowing the defensiveness in his tone showed how know-it-all his brother really was. 

“I don’t know, Gabriel, не будь сукой.” Castiel deadpanned. 

“So you think Mary Partridge was Mary Campbell?” 

Gabriel raised the question thoughtfully and weirdly enough, Castiel had a feeling that it could be true. It did make sense—though he hadn’t met Mary many times, his father was usually the one to deal with such matters but there was no denying that she was a remarkable beta. The Winchester and Campbell both had rich genetic codes as far as one could tell, so the merging of both bloodlines could very well result in the birth of an alpha and an omega from the same womb. It wasn’t unfeasible.

“Well if that’s the case, it’s not short of remarkable. I mean an alpha and an omega from the same uterus? Whoa.” Gabriel whistled in daze leaning against the table now. 

Castiel rolled his eyes for real this time. “It’s not as remarkable as you think it is—not when our mother birthed twins—one alpha and one beta.” He fondly thought back on her and it was always with a smile on his face. 

“Yeah, she was blessed,’ Castiel could hear the smile in his voice. They never talked about their mother. “However, what’s more remarkable than Nikolas and Luce’s birth is that she also birthed you.” 

Castiel didn’t say anything at that. He was pretty far from remarkable, he was everything his mother wasn’t. Everything she didn’t want Castiel to be. That was the reason he hardly thought about her, he couldn’t—not without spiraling out of control and he couldn’t lose control, not now. Not when he was so close to the omega. 

“So, how do we know Mary Partridge was Mary Campbell?” Gabriel filled the silence, Castiel was glad and got his head back in his laptop. 

“Let’s find out.” Castiel said before digging deep into her file. 

Gabriel took to the empty space beside Castiel as he pulled her medical files. That was the only infallible way to know if she had kids and Castiel found himself desperately hoping for their theories to make sense even if it meant the omega in question probably wasn’t his own. 

And to his surprise and relief and disappointment, they did make sense.

His breath hitched and his wolf fidgeted within him with a sort of eagerness when he came across the hospital birth record. Mary Campbell gave birth to a boy on Jan 25, 1989 and Castiel could feel his palms were getting sweaty when the realization dawned on him, the boy was born 9 months after his own omega was taken away from him. 

He couldn’t hear Gabriel over the sound of his own thoughts but he felt Gabriel take the laptop from his lap and Castiel let it slide as he took a moment to ponder what this could possibly mean. 

“She gave birth to another boy a few years later.” Gabriel muttered in a low tone, sensing Castiel’s mix of emotions. “I think Mary Partridge was after all Mary Campbell. She was sending the human money for her pups, probably.” 

“I suppose she realized even after Azazel bit it, she couldn’t protect them. So naturally it makes sense why they grew up with a human guardian and ran from everyone wolf-kin. Didn’t help that dad kinda marked both their packs rogue so….” 

Gabriel was rambling and thinking out loud but it was a logical hypothesis. Although it was outstanding how she used an enemy to eradicate another enemy—she couldn’t possibly trust Russians with her pups especially when one was an omega and the other an alpha. In that chaos, every pack would’ve wanted to get their claws on the omega and the Winchesters were obviously no exception. 

Nevertheless it was heartbreaking how she couldn’t trust her own kind, her own pack, but her lack of trust was legitimate in every sense. Wolf-kin looked after their own but not when power is in the cards. 

But that wasn’t the thing that bugged him. 

“Also doesn’t help very much that she’s dead…” Gabriel said among the lines of his further tedious ramblings which Castiel caught on. 

That was what bugged him. She was not dead. 

\--------------- 

It was clear as day that the omega in question was Mary Campbell’s son—especially after an extensive excavation done by Cecily on the cheques that were sent to Bobby Singer. She’d tried to recover birth certificates but somehow, they had ceased to exist or maybe never existed in the first place. It was smart that Mary opted out of having birth certificates entirely for either of her sons. She really was thinking ahead and rightly so. 

“Alright Bucko, let’s talk about options here!” Castiel groaned upon hearing Gabriel’s voice again in the morning. He glanced at his watch, it was a little after 10 and it was bad enough Hannah, the pack chef by day and a practicing doctor by night was making him eat breakfast. Veggies, fruits and all the other atrocities that are called healthy. 

Last night’s unraveling was a lot to process so Castiel again retired to his room leaving a rambling Gabriel behind. He needed the quiet and Gabriel was not it.

“Gabriel, no candies in the morning, please!” Hannah’s voice boomed through the kitchen and Castiel’s eyes rose from his plate of some fancy healthy salad to Gabriel who had a lollipop in his mouth.

“You both are worse than Nikolas!” She good naturedly scolded as Gabriel let go off his lollipop and took a seat on the table. Hannah was swiftly back with another plate of breakfast for Gabriel with a smile. 

“Nobody is worse than Nikolas.” Gabriel muttered as his face twisted horribly at his plate. 

“I think you’re worse than all of us.” Castiel muttered back with an amused look that he directed towards his own half empty plate. Castiel's own eating habits were questionable but his brother downright ate candy for breakfast, lunch, and even dinner which made Castiel gag.

“You literally breathe whiskey vodka and Ziganov. This is the first time I’ve seen you with something that doesn’t smell like alcohol and ash.” He retorted and Hannah let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Don’t be a child, Gabriel. Eat!” She ordered. “Both of you.” 

Castiel smiled at Hannah as he saw her quickly put her coat on. She had somewhere to be but she stayed only to fix Castiel something healthy because according to her even hybrids needed to eat healthy from time to time. She was a good kid, Castiel liked her enthusiasm and brightness. 

“I will be back to check.” She warned and Castiel gave her a curt nod with a little smile before turning back to his half eaten salad and Gabriel’s resting face. 

“What options?” Castiel asked ignoring Gabriel’s bitch face as he chewed on what looked like a tomato…maybe it was a cucumber. He couldn’t tell. 

“Oh, so now you wanna pay attention to your big bro, little one?” Castiel hated when Gabriel called him that. It had been a source of endless wrestling and assassination threats between the brothers but Gabriel was relentless when it came to annoying Castiel. 

Castiel glared at him and he raised his hands in surrender with a knowing smile that he’d succeeded in pissing Castiel off. “I’m talking about the whole Winchester x Campbell kamikaze. We should set our priorities straight because there are other things that need your attention. You are still the American alpha.” 

“You’re telling me I’m neglecting my job?” Castiel asked in challenged, still playing with his food. He knew Gabriel was right but he loved intimidating his pain in the ass brother every now and then.

“No, of course not,’ Gabriel heaved a sigh before he slumped back into his chair in defeat, leaving his breakfast untouched. “I’m telling you that we should talk about our next move and I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.” 

Castiel’s brows shot up and his expression screamed, ‘ _really?_ ’ 

“You’re not gonna like it,’ Gabriel informed firsthand and of course Castiel figured that much. Gabriel’s ideas were often practical but not all the time. He walked a fine line between convenient and stupidly precarious. “But I think we should see someone about the scent issue.” 

Castiel’s brows furrowed but he could tell what Gabriel was talking about. He regretted telling him that the omegas scent was very much identical to his own since Gabriel was more inclined towards spirituality so he knew where this was going but he could still play dumb and kill this idea before it took any form in Gabriel’s mind.

“What do you mean?” 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “The omega is pretty identical to yours, you said so yourself—features and even scents. You can deny all you want, but we need a pair of eyes for this. And before you go talking about science, let me tell you it can’t explain everything. Especially not this unless you have a wolf-kin scientist stuffed somewhere who can tell you why this omegas scent is identical to your omega.” 

Castiel’s words of objection died in his mouth. He wasn’t spiritual, not even remotely but they were hitting a dead end with the whole same omega or not thing. And he needed answers, a whole lot of answers. 

Castiel dramatically narrowed his eyes in thought before he said, “You’re suggesting we see the seer, and risk this whole maneuver into the oblivion. Next thing we know, all of Russia comes to find out about our extracurricular. You want to involve the council in this? Or even worse, you want to involve our father?” 

“Whoa, whoa,’ Gabriel half yelled in shock like Castiel just declared war on the world. “Nobody is going to mother Russia to see the seer. Not to mention, he is fucking insane and he creeps me out. In addition to that, I do not want to see dad. Gosh!”

Gabriel exclaimed defensively and Castiel couldn’t really disagree with him. The Russian seer was completely out of it, and clearly not an option even Gabriel would take. 

“You don’t want to go to Russia?” Castiel teased—bringing his plate to the sink as he chugged a glass of water for good measures. Maybe he could eat healthy, it wasn’t so bad only now he was pulling a cigarette out of his sweatpants so Hannah’s whole idea of healthy eating really was going down the drain already. 

“Dude, even you don’t want to go to Russia.” 

“I really don’t.” Castiel agreed with a huff, returning to his seat. Russia was a handful, he was glad he wasn’t heir to the title of the Russian alpha after his father. He wondered who’d it go to, not Michael that much he knew. “Then what are you suggesting?” 

“I think it’s time we give Rowena a little visit, don’t you think?” 

Castiel sighed—he should’ve seen that coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Иногда ты заставляешь меня хотеть убить тебя-Sometimes you make me want to kill you  
> не будь сукой- dont be a bitch


	12. The Shield & The Sword

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap is full of drama, i might have gotten a bit carried away *yikes*  
> The shield and sword thing is something i picked up from spn, it makes perfect sense. Cas is the shield and Dean is the sword. It's an exciting narrative and i've applied it to this fic. 
> 
> And Dean and Cas will finally meet in the next chapter. No kidding, pinky swear! 
> 
> Anyways, here is a charlie edit because she deserved to be in the list of found family in the show, but like every good character, the writers ruined it. I will never get over how spn screwed with us ugh!

It was the first time both the brothers had agreed on something. It was nice for a change, but Charlie was skeptic. She couldn’t just leave them alone like that, not when she’d gotten used to being glued to their sides. It was a pleasant feeling, knowing she belonged somewhere at least. 

Sam and Dean both had become such a crucial part of her life—well, probably the only part that mattered. Charlie could never forget how they pulled her out from the darkest time of her life. She knew they regretted bringing her into the fugitive life, but she needed a purpose, she needed something to hold onto and they gave her that. 

After her mother died, she was all but aimless and abandoned. If it wasn’t for the brothers, she’d have been lost. Their purpose gave her a purpose, and a sense of home that she never experienced. It was good enough for her plus she got to be the cool smart hacker chick straight out of an action movie. 

Not to mention, her boring and stupid life turned much thrilling when she met the brothers. Everything about them screamed drifting serial killers at first but they grew on her, they let her in on their secret and god was she ecstatic. 

Twilight was a terrible, terrible movie—even the werewolf part sucked ass but she would be lying if she said she didn’t secretly hoped for something like that to exist in real life. She wasn’t even scared when Dean shifted, she was enthralled because goddamn, his wolf was one of the most ethereal thing she’d set her eyes on. 

Slowly but surely she got immersed in the world of wolf-kin. She read ton of lore, ton of books on omegas, alphas and betas and the next thing she knew, she had better knowledge than even Sam and Dean. 

The omegas were supposed to be these gods, and Charlie could tell why when she looked at Dean. He really was one of his kind, there was such softness and kindness that he hid beneath his tough exterior. But she could always see right through him. 

Sam on the other hand, was as brilliant as they came as well. Though she read a lot of shit about how alphas are prideful, and a bunch of narcissists—Sam was anything but. He was amazing, his mind worked like a damn computer and Charlie was sure if he put his mind into hacking, he could even beat Charlie and that would be no small feat. 

They were both so incredible, it hurt how they lived. How shit turned out for them, how their mother left and never came back, how an omega—an almost god was reduced to living like a human. Dean didn’t seem to mind, he saw beauty in the little things—like diner burgers, bacons, pie, and a shitty motel room’s magic fingers. Charlie sometimes couldn’t believe he was a damn deity and wolf-kin would die for him in a heartbeat. 

And then there was Rowena, the 300 year old witch who Sam was hopelessly crushing on. And Charlie was starting to notice it wasn’t after all unrequited. She could see Rowena made him happy, and she was over all a great woman—her and Charlie got along just fine so she wasn’t much surprised when Dean told her Sam’s wolf had been somersaulting in her presence. They both laughed and teased the blushing giant. 

She loved them both, they were family or as close to a family she’d ever have. So naturally, she didn’t like the idea of parting ways even if it was for her own safety, even if it was for a few days—just until they could do the spell and be done with it. Charlie prayed for it to work, she sympathized and understood their pain—if she could, she’d bring her own mother back. 

“You’ll be safe with Rowena, I promise.” Sam assured with his puppy dog eyes. Seriously who could even resist that look?

“I know, but we’ve never really been apart and I’m worried.” She sighed leaning into the chair. She knew there was no winning from them, they’d put her safety before anything. 

“Oh red, you’re breaking my heart! C’mere!” Dean teased pulling her arm lightly to make her stand on her feet—next thing she knew, she was in a bear hug. Dean had always been a hugger though he’d never admit it for the life of him. 

Charlie smiled into the hug, letting her nose be filled with his spicy cologne. “Alright, alright—don’t be a stranger okay? Text me every night, and get it done my tigers!” 

“That’s my girl!” Dean chimed placing a small kiss at the top of her head before leaving to resume his packing in the hall. 

The full moon was in less than 3 days or so and they needed to find a good enough abandoned location for the spell. So they decided to spend the rest of their days leading up to the full moon, in a motel, next town—which Charlie thought was an absurd idea. But they pretty much didn’t have much of a choice, the house they were holed up in was soon to be occupied by a family and Rowena’s little house wasn’t sufficient for two giant men not to mention it would attract unnecessary attention from the neighbors. 

So it was, to certain degree, a good enough idea. 

“So, Rowena, huh?” Charlie poked Sam in the ribs which resulted in him spitting his water full fountain style. 

“Seriously? I can’t even drink water in peace now?” Sam’s many bitch faces were the most adorable, at least to Charlie. Dean would downright wince at the sight. 

Charlie let out a dramatic chuckle then leaned in to whisper, “I’ll take care of your lady.” She winked and god, Sam was flushing which made his forced resting face more adorable. 

“You will do no such thing.” He muttered back before pushing past her to leave hastily. And it wasn’t like she was implying _that_ , Rowena totally wasn’t her type but well, there was no denying she was gorgeous. 

“Hey! I don’t steal other people’s women okay?” Charlie loudly called out to annoy him even more, making sure Rowena who was seated in the hall with Dean, heard it as well. “Shut up!” Sam yelled back in frustration and Charlie did her little happy dance seeing that her mission to embarrass him yet again had indeed been a success.

  
But an unsettling feeling made home in her chest. She knew the outcome of the situation Sam and Dean both were about to be in—it’ll either end with a long overdue family reunion or something entirely different. 

  
She hoped for the best, she prayed for the best. Sam and Dean deserved to be happy. 

Soon the colors of night painted the sky and it was time to say goodbye. Both the brothers were utterly freaked but none of them talked about it—Charlie didn’t push it either. They ought to be nervous of course, they’d waited so long for this and yet the uncertainty hung over their heads. 

Sam spent time with Rowena, she really lightened his mood. Dean and Charlie on the other hand, sat together on the couch and watched them indulge in many conversations. Charlie could swear there was happiness and desire she saw in Dean’s eyes. 

She knew Dean wanted to settle, he’d never admit it of course. There were a lot of things he’d never admit but Charlie knew. He wanted a normal pack life, maybe a mate, couple little pups but Dean would never allow himself that.

They’d talk about it many times when Sam wasn’t around to hear it, and Dean opened up to Charlie like nobody’s business. But there was a lot he wasn’t ready to face if the opportunity of him having a normal pack life were to rise. For one, he didn’t wanted to be some alpha’s bitch, a breeding machine, a trophy mate—and they were valid concerns but Charlie often found herself telling him otherwise. He was worthy, of everything. He deserved the absolute best, he deserved someone to be patient with him and she promised him that she’d stick around to make sure Dean gets that. And Dean would chuckle at her resolve, tease her and make fun of her but Charlie knew he needed to hear some of that sappy stuff he pretended to gag at. 

“Be safe.” Charlie kissed both the brothers as they loaded their belongings in the impala. 

“Don’t give Rowena trouble, okay?” Dean teased earning a playful smack on his head from her. Sam and Rowena said their goodbyes a few feet away from them and both Dean and Charlie booed at them lightheartedly leaving both of them a blushing mess. 

\-------------------- 

“So, this is goodbye.” Rowena’s eyes shot up to meet the hazel eyed alpha. She smiled, he’d grown too much on her as of late. 

She didn’t know if it were the fates at work, but she could feel how companionable his and her own wolves had become—like kindred spirits. Having been alive for centuries didn’t prepare her for the emotions she felt towards him—she thought she was past _feeling….anything_. 

“For now.” She replied and his tense expressions softened into a small smile. 

Her eyes turned to the freckled omega next, he too, had grown on her a tad too much. Knowing what she knew about him, it was unjust, the longing he felt for the one he was running from—and he didn’t even know. But the gods were cruel like that….what could she say? However she wouldn’t come in between the fates, she wouldn’t pick sides. Not when she already knew the hybrid would find him, if not now, then eventually—though she had only one concern, Samuel’s safety. 

The power of being a seer came with its limits. She could only see what was shown to her, it was a setback since she didn’t know what would become of Samuel. If she’d even get to see him again but there was no use anticipating storms that were yet to come. 

“You take care of her, Rowena.” She opened her arms and gave Dean a tight hug. Even his cologne couldn’t obscure his sweet scent. 

“Of course.” She muttered in his embrace before letting go. Rowena and Charlie both stepped back and watched them hop in the impala—with one last smile directed at Sam who graciously returned it back before they drove off. 

“Are they going to be okay?” Charlie asked, worry radiated from her tone. She turned to look at the girl, with a small smile—it was fascinating if not downright a wonder how she cared for the brothers and vice versa considering she wasn’t sired.

“They will be.”

\-------------------- 

“Whatever happens, do not come out of this room.” Rowena burnt a couple hexes all around the room to mask Charlie’s human scent. 

She didn’t in a thousand years thought it’d come to this. She could always cloak her own location but the fate had to take its course, she couldn’t intervene so she had to settle with whatever was coming. 

“Rowena, what are you doing?” 

“Just do as I say.” Rowena replied, the room afloat of the cleansing smoke that rose from the last hex bag. She discarded the remains in the nearby dustbin and turned to Charlie. 

“Rowena, tell me what’s going on?” Charlie’s arms were crossed, her nostrils flared as she stood adamant. Rowena heaved a sigh, _oh she is a Winchester, alright._

“The alpha is coming.” 

Charlie’s eyes widened, her hands at once fell back to her sides. She opened her mouth to ask the questions building up in her mind but she decided against it. Rowena could feel the bile rise in Charlie’s throat and her heart pounding against her chest, she was scared. 

“He will not hurt you, don’t worry. But don’t come out until I say so.” Rowena gave her a solemn nod before shutting the door behind her. 

Castiel was coming himself, which was not comforting to say the least. She knew the years hadn’t been kind to him, he hadn’t been himself in decades, not after what happened. And what happened to him would change even the kindest person so she couldn’t truly blame him. 

The wall clock struck a little after 6—just a few hours to the full moon and she found herself pondering. All those years ago, when Castiel came upon her doorstep, a ragged mess of an alpha, a shell of a man—she remembered how she could feel his torment in the air, it made her choke, the remnants of Affinis in the space around him. And she wondered what god had cursed him, to live with a heart so shattered it put fragile glass to shame. 

She remembered the deepness of his ache when he asked her to bring him back. _I offer myself to you, take me. Take all of me, but bring him back._ He’d said, but if only it were that easy. An omega couldn’t be brought back. 

All those years ago she had to turn him away, but now maybe it was through her he’d find the omega. 

A knock on the door startled her—she knew there was no use delaying the inevitable so she moved towards the door without further ado to open it, and when she did, the scent of an unforgiving ocean enveloped her before her eyes met the familiar blue. 

“Rowena,’ he tilted his head, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. Rowena almost forgot how charming Castiel was—she would offer a little smile to the man who was now all sorts of grown up and dashing but her mind didn’t let her forget that the man who stood in front of her was no more a helpless alpha. 

“Castiel,’ she breathed, her eyes finding another man beside him—much shorter. “And….Gabriel, was it?” She recognized the first beta. 

“I am offended you don’t remember my good looks, Rowena.” He pouted and oh did the memories came tumbling down to her. Gabriel had always been a piece of work, charming but as annoying as an infant. 

“Are we not welcome in your humble abode?” Castiel asked forcing her attention towards himself and god, had he changed. He no longer was the vulnerable beseeching alpha who wanted his omega back, even his scent was daunting now to say the least. 

“You make it sound like I have a choice.” Rowena scoffed all while his cold blue eyes pierced her. She opened the door to its full potential and let them in as calmly as she could. Being hyperaware of the fact that there was a human girl in the room wasn’t doing her much good. 

“You _are_ an exceptional witch.” Castiel turned, waiting for her to close the door—while Gabriel sure was making himself at home. “And a seer.” 

“And you are a hybrid. I am no fool, there isn’t much I can do.” She turned with a small smile, leading him to the couch where Gabriel was already sitting comfortably with a glass of wine that just so happened to be from her fridge. She seated herself parallel to the brothers, smoothing down her blue maxi dress.

“I wish you hadn’t brought your brother.” She lightly grimaced and Gabriel looked all kinds of offended as he downed the glass of wine. 

“He harbors a very perverted, what do they say?” He squinted his eyes in thought, as he unbuttoned his coat. “A crush on you, so you can imagine my horror.” 

“Hey!” Gabriel exclaimed placing the glass on the table with a thud. Rowena let out a scoff, rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Castiel. She was way past dating or even sleeping with royalty, let alone a Krushnic. 

“What brings you here, Castiel?” Castiel eased into his posture, his thighs spread and leg resting on the other. An alpha stance.

“You know why I’m here, Rowena.” 

“You’re a smart woman.” Gabriel shrugged but his words were a warning. 

“You already have a seer, should I be flattered that you lads still chose me?” Rowena countered, slightly leaning back into the comfort of her couch. 

“You already know why he wasn’t our first choice.” Castiel replied dryly. “Don’t play coy, Rowena.” 

“Scared of daddy, are we?” Rowena teased knowing it wasn’t a very right thing to say in an alpha’s presence. Castiel tilted his head in amusement but Gabriel spoke for him before he could say anything. 

“Oh, hell yes! Czar Krushnic is one scary mofo, alright? There is absolutely no denying that.” Upon which Rowena rolled her eyes. Czar Krushnic was scary, sure, but Castiel could be scarier and he had been on several occasions. Czar Krushnic had nothing on his hybrid son. 

“I know enough about the omega, as do you, I believe.” Castiel said in his usual hoarse tone. “I did not come here to play petty games. I want to know things.” 

“What do you know about the omega?” Rowena narrowed her eyes defensively and from what she could read, it seemed Castiel knew a great deal. 

“I know the omega has an alpha brother.” Castiel frowned, his shoulders rose and slumped. Rowena’s brows shot up in astonishment that she tried her best to conceal. “I met with their surrogate father.” Rowena was hoping to be not as surprised, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t. “I know they are from the Winchester-Campbell bloodline.” 

“What’s the matter? Looking a little pale there, red.” Gabriel smirked. 

And Rowena had gone a little cold, that much was obvious. She saw the vision of the hybrid turning up on her door once again, and she was convinced that maybe it was through her the hybrid would find the omega but Castiel’s knowledge on the matter, and his threatening scent had jolted her protective instincts awake. 

“It seems you have it all figured out. What do you need me for?” She knew what Castiel was silently asking for, but the reluctance on her part was only natural. She was thinking about Sam, obviously. Castiel may not be a traditional alpha, but a rogue alpha was a rogue alpha. Even the sired humans knew that. 

A low growl rumbled through Castiel’s chest and across the hall. His scent screamed impatience and startled Rowena’s wolf that now squirmed under the alpha’s gaze. “Let’s not go there, folks!” Gabriel awkwardly chimed in. “We are not here to hurt anyone, Rowena. Right, Cassie?” 

Rowena’s eye narrowed at the brothers. Gabriel always was the balanced one, violence never was his forte, not even after all these years spent with the alpha that practically bled aggression—Rowena thought his tendency to be a peacemaker would change but good thing it didn’t. He elbowed Castiel who gave him a simmering glare but conceded with a sigh. 

“You have my word. There will be no carnage tonight.” The hoarseness of his tone contained sincerity for which Rowena was glad. Castiel’s word was his bond. But one could never be sure, not when Sam and Charlie’s safety was in question.

“Not just tonight, Castiel. There will be no carnage _at all_ , no matter the circumstance if you want to know what I know.” That startled Castiel a little, he narrowed his eyes slightly in his signature way but gave her a curt nod. At that Rowena eased visibly. 

“Tell me what I want to know, then.” 

“He is the reincarnation of your omega.” Rowena announced and braced herself for the impact she thought her words would cause, but no blow was delivered. 

Only silence came in return and a bewildered Castiel. 

\-----------------

Castiel knew what it meant, he might’ve not been spiritual but it made sense. The thought had crossed his mind, and it had lingered longer than he’d care to admit when his own omegas words came to mind. Zetas were horrible, they deserved every suffering Castiel inflicted on them but for their prayers to be accepted was a low blow to Castiel and his nonexistent faith. 

“Do you think the zeta douches danced this lambada?” Gabriel was the first one to break the silence in disbelief. All while Castiel rubbed the side of his forehead in contemplation—there was a lot to think, more questions came to surface but he knew Rowena could answer them all. 

Considering the human scent that permeated the air, extremely faint but pickable. She was hiding someone, which meant she was protecting someone. But then again, that was much like Rowena—to bend the rules to her will, that had to be a given taking into account the fact she broke the rules of the seers—she dabbled into occult that was so frowned upon, the council wanted her dead, if not her head on a spike. 

“Dear, they danced every lambada.” Rowena’s face twisted in disgust as she turned her attention towards Castiel who eyed her intently. “And yes, it looks like they did. They wanted your omega dead because he was imperfect, couldn’t shift which was hardly his own fault.” 

“So they sacrificed him to their gods and asked for a perfect omega? You’re telling me, it’s true?” Castiel’s anger churned within him, his wolf growled to be set free and tear into somebody’s flesh. 

“You know it is.” Rowena uttered through gritted teeth and Castiel leaned forward, his hands clasped together as he closed his eyes to contain whatever it was he felt. 

Because he felt too much of it. His skin burned, his heart turned and his mind crowded with vindictive thoughts, the lament of not being able to protect the omega came crashing down. Again. 

They killed him, just because he couldn’t shift. And in lieu of his sacrifice they asked for a perfect omega and the gods granted their wish. It made him sick to his stomach and the urge to find these gods and murder them became so heightened, he felt like he could slaughter the world….again…and this time he wouldn’t stop. This time his claws would rip open their chests and he would savor their screams. 

“They were demented people who thought they were doing the work of the gods. It wasn’t their sacrifice that brought him back, Castiel.” Rowena’s voice rose above Castiel’s thoughts and he didn’t even realize she’d gotten up from where she sat. “I sense, it was your yearning.”

Her warm but minty breath ghosted over Castiel’s face as she seated herself in front of him, on the small coffee table and his head rose to meet her dark but soft eyes—her voice laced with comfort—the same comfort she offered him all those years ago when he showed up on her doorstep, entirely broken.

“Are you trying to make me feel better?” He threatened, his eyes murky but Rowena’s comforting posture didn’t waver. She held her ground, and Castiel liked her for it. 

“The gods never cared about the zetas or their agendas. The gods don’t care about anyone,’ she emphasized with a frown as she tilted her head to mirror Castiel. “But I have felt your ache and I have remembered it for years. Sometimes what one feels for the other leaves a mark so strong behind, it defies the natural order.” 

Castiel’s heart throbbed at her words that hit so close to home. He’d felt such pain at times, he’d thought he’d die of heartache alone. The mighty hybrid would fall not by the weapon made to kill him, but a wretched misery he couldn’t quite let go. 

He took comfort in her words, in her sincere eyes. Rowena smiled sadly at him, like she could feel his heart breach all over again. 

_"And so the shield scourges land and sea for the sword, marking mother earth with such agony—it sprouts the sword from its shroud….so they reunify and complete.”_ Gabriel recited as Castiel and Rowena both turned their heads to look at the poignant look on his face. “It’s a prophecy?” 

Castiel recognized the words from one of their many gospels, he’d read them, his mother believed too much and he remembered indulging her often times—reading many prophecies that had even come to pass, but not once did he think one would be about him and his love for the omega. 

Rowena’s silence emitted the answer Gabriel needed. But as much as Castiel was fascinated, his faith was way past saving—he couldn’t find it in himself to care about some prophecy, for all he knew, they could just be words and even if they weren’t—a sudden kindness of the fates couldn’t eradicate the pain he’d felt all this time. 

“Does he remember?” Castiel asked, pouring all the emotion he felt into his gravelly tone—his eyes gripping Rowena’s. 

He braced himself for the reply and it came. “No,’ she said, shaking her head. “But he feels the longing you feel.” 

Castiel huffed in disappointment and in hope alike, his eyes finding Gabriel who had a small smile on his mischievous face. “Will he remember?” He turned to Rowena. 

“He is weaved in the structure of your existence as you are in his. He will remember, in time.”

Rowena assured with a gentle squeeze to his wrist. Her words sure brought him hope and relieve to his aching heart but there was still a long way to go. “Tell me where they are.” Castiel asked, getting a hold of her delicate hand that rested on his wrist. Suddenly, he could hear her heart pound in his ears as Castiel leveled his head to meet her posture. 

Her pale skin turned a shade paler when he tilted his head expectantly. Gabriel sat back without uttering a word but he heard him sigh in defeat. Rowena stood her ground, didn’t dither from her sitting position on the small coffee table. “I don’t know where they are.” She lied with a shrug to make it believable but Castiel knew better—he tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her towards him. Their faces mere inches away from each other as her breath hitched in her throat. 

He took a whiff. “I may not be able to scent you, Rowena. But I can still smell underneath all the hexes you’ve burnt—the human scent is hard to miss.” He rasped in a low voice, earning a shudder from the witch. 

“Remember your word, alpha.” She muttered the reminder, closing her eyes, not struggling in Castiel’s grip but considering her erratic heart beats, he let her go and leaned back into the couch leaving her stunned. 

“I remember,’ he affirmed, tilting his head as she shuffled away from him gracefully. “Tell me why you’re hiding a human from us.” 

“I am yet again offended at your lack of trust in us, Rowena.” Gabriel pouted and Rowena visibly heaved a groan before flopping down on the couch again. 

“Don’t ask questions that don’t concern you.” Rowena said calmly. 

“Well then okay, red. Tell us why the alphas beloved stole the flower? Don’t skip any details.”

Gabriel waggled his brows and Castiel actually deemed the question worthy enough to listen. One way or another, he was sure Rowena would tell him their whereabouts. Her reluctance was somewhat apprehensive taking into account the fact she knew Castiel would never harm the omega. 

Unless she was protecting the alpha and the human under her roof rather than the omega, but it was a farfetched hunch—though Castiel’s instincts were hardly ever wrong. 

“The flower is for a resurrection spell.” She gave in. “The omega wants to bring his mother back.” 

Upon which Castiel’s eyes narrowed and his face twisted into a scowl. Of course! How could he had been so oblivious—the only other thing the flower could be used for was resurrection of wolf-kin. And that put in perspective the fact that Rowena had already been acquainted with them, it explained the presence of a human under her roof. He'd come to learn the brothers were prone to human attachments—once again his instincts had done their job.

“You’re kidding right?” Gabriel deadpanned. 

“You mean, Mary Campbell?” Castiel asked, his mind running wild with thoughts at the speed of the light. 

“Mary Winchester,’ she corrected. “Yes.” 

Castiel glanced at Gabriel instinctively and he shrugged with his brows almost taking off his forehead, his expression _'don't look at me, i don't know'_ clear as day. He turned to Rowena and wondered how come a seer didn’t know what he already did but well, he was amused to say the least. 

Although he knew Rowena had been cut out of wolf-kin business long enough to not know much outside her seer induced visions. 

“Being a seer I thought you’d know,’ Castiel jibed, rising from where he sat—his hands finding his pockets to dig into. “Mary Winchester is alive.”


	13. The Night We Met

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did something. This particular chapter is not in anyone's POV for the most part, i tried to convey each characters feelings so I changed my writing style for this one since I only write POV's. It was kinda hard, and I still think this sucks but I wanted to make their meeting as dramatic as possible (for the culture lol! i suck at this) 
> 
> Again I used the same setting they used in spn when Dean and Cas first met, it was in the barn, so i went with the barn. 
> 
> FYI, i do not know how to write anxiety and panic attacks even though i've had quite a few, they are different for everyone and hard to write. So please excuse anything you might notice as unnecessary and irrelevant. I've used my own experience and read a few 'how to write a panic attack' articles so like idk... go figure. 
> 
> Anyway, i hope you guys enjoyy! I hope i did justice! (though i know this fuking sukksss sowwie ;)

It was on that night of the full moon, history would repeat itself. Such a foreign thought to even cross one’s mind, to spend decades that seemed like eternities, said eternities laced with grief all leading up to that one moment that had already come to pass in the past: 

A full moon, a stretch of pine trees dazzling under the moon light, one alpha strutting about the green eyed omega beneath the starry night sky—a lover’s memory, a paradise. 

And now it would come to pass again and mark the beginning of a life that was so viciously ripped away from them. The gods were cruel, true, but more than anything they enjoyed a good show. 

When Rowena told Castiel, should the subject be alive and the spell is casted anyway—the consequences would be dire given that it demands a soul to bring back—in which case, the spell would open the gates of heaven, hell and purgatory all at once for a short period of time—nevertheless, long enough for something to happen to the caster. Not essentially good but quite differing. The caster could get possessed, die or something worse like travel through one of the portals and end up at the other side. 

Upon which Castiel had barred his fangs at Rowena, his left hand clenched into a fist and the right one found Rowena’s neck—her back slammed into the nearby wall that was adorned by several fancy gilded glass pendants. 

Gabriel had jumped in to get a handle on Castiel’s intolerance but if anything, Castiel was relentless in his fury. Until the human girl made herself known rather fiercely and Castiel could dimly scent the remnants of the omegas scent on her—which meant they were more than acquaintances, maybe even family. Castiel let go shortly, realizing he needed to stop his anger get the best of him. They all had a common goal—to stop the omega from casting the spell which, if successfully emitted, could chew him up and spit him in another reality. And Castiel wouldn’t lose him, not again, not now, not ever—not because of a silly spell. 

And just like that, the wheels of fate began to turn in momentum when the full moon embellished the dark sky and Dean and Sam both got to work—in a dark roofless abandoned barn they’d found after much tracking, surrounded by thick pine trees which was beyond doubt, poetic in its own way. The only light that decorated the premise was that of the moon and some candles that Dean had lit. 

The merging of the ingredients began— the scent of dirt, the fragrance of crushed Affinis, & the relics of heaven, hell and purgatory, all flung into the wooden bowl—all while Charlie gave in the location to the barn that had been privy only to her, to save Dean from a fate worse than death. And Castiel wasted no time in shifting and tearing through the air to save his omega. 

It was a war against time, against the fullness of the moon. It was almost wistful, if not downright troubling that after all this time—this was the circumstances under which the alpha and the omega would again meet. Castiel racing to save the omega once again, making up for a lost opportunity in the past where he had failed—and that resulted in such grief, the world bled at his feet. 

But this time, he was determined not to fail. And so was Dean, for the love he bore his mother. 

Gabriel, ever the brother’s keeper, couldn’t leave Castiel unaided therefore he got in the car in hopes of catching up with him or better yet, get to the barn before he does—Rowena & Charlie joined him in the quest—both their hearts thumping against their rib cages at the thought of something happening to Sam and Dean. 

The pregnant silence stretched and a scurry settled in the air—no one spoke and their ears only rung with the wind and the occasional screeching of the tires when Gabriel took sharp turns. Whereas, Castiel battled with the air, miles and miles ahead of Gabriel’s wheels. 

Caring for someone had always been a fickle thing, Rowena understood that. But feeling what she felt for Sam when the thought of him being in danger occurred to her, it became an entirely different emotion. And it was then she comprehended what Castiel might feel, only tenfold of what she did. 

Who would’ve thought, an ancient seer finding what she’d given up looking for, in a young alpha. 

But it wasn’t just her story, or Sam’s—it wasn’t even a story as such—it was, for the lack of better phrase, a fulfillment of a prophecy that was coming to pass. A reunification of the shield and the sword, as it was written in the gospels. 

Just as the moon perched proudly in full view over the roofless barn, Dean cut open his hand with a light flinch—his blood dripped into the contents of the bowl as Sam quickly shuffled to get him a handkerchief—the spell now just one ingredient shy from whole—the picture of Mary and little Dean, crumpled from being in Dean’s wallet forever. 

Dean smiled—a memory of her rushing to the surface of his mind. _I’ll see you soon, mom—_ he affirmed with faith that he didn’t know he even had, but it wasn’t the kind of faith one would have in god. It was hope, now that Dean thought about it—it was hope more than it was faith. 

Again, it was unrealistic to have such hope—but he remembered, hope is anything but realistic. 

However, the moment was cut short when something shifted in the air as Castiel neared his destination. Sam sensed it, a little after Dean, an intimidating hazard as clear as the moon. And when it came to protect the omega, Sam became everything they said alphas were—hardnosed, prideful, possessive. 

He was, after all, the omegas fierce defender, as the omega was his. 

So he changed into his defensive position when Dean glanced warily at him, a silent permission to Sam’s silent suggestion—they needn’t use words to understand each other. 

Dean turned his attention to the wooden bowl dropping the picture into it, the ingredients now whole. His heart thudded against his chest from anticipation when his hands found the rough parchment on which the incantation was scribbled in Rowena’s violent handwriting.

" _Causa est infernum, est caelum et purgatorium reservant. Audi verba mea ad portals O pastor, lupus, te rogamus vos et exaltare altitudinem magnam consanguineis, ac caro et sanguis meus_." He recited with grit.

Sam rolled his shoulders in resolve, stretched his body urging his wolf to take charge and his wolf never shied to do so—a growl erupted from him shredding his clothes as he shifted. Both the brothers rear to rear, Dean’s back turned to the door while Sam faced it, covering Dean from the risk that enveloped their surroundings—anytime now, the door would break open and the adversary would reveal itself, Sam sensed. 

Castiel remembered Rowena’s words when he grew close, close enough that an alpha scent dominated his nose as he pranced around the pine trees, the barn in near proximity that he could see. _“His brother will protect him,’_ she said. _“Do not hurt him.”_ She pleaded. And Castiel didn’t intend to as he had declared him _sacrosanct_ , even though his wolf perceived him a threat from the distance. 

He felt the need to howl, to wordlessly let the alpha know of his presence but he concealed his wolf—urged him not to do so in order to not scare them away. 

Dean felt the jolt of a familiar scent hit him as he lit the match roughly, the colors orange, red and blue coming alive around it releasing warmth. His hand rose just over the bowl, the spell half alive with the incantation already and waiting for the fire to give it complete life. 

And so the gods held their breaths when Castiel dashed towards the barn, crashing into the door with enough force that it opened wide—a russet furred wolf with his sharp teeth barred and ready came in view. He growled in his throat, defensively, his stance broadened and Castiel realized he was in fact protecting the omega, even from Castiel’s sight. 

Sam’s wolf immediately perceived him as a hazard but he also realized this alpha was not ordinary when his scent towered over Sam’s. He took a step forward to intimidate, another growl and the crimson alpha eased, his red eyes softened and his scent changed—sending out an unruffled and collected message that screamed ‘ _I will not hurt you,’_

Sam considered it—this strong alpha that could rip him apart in an instant if he wanted to was sending a message to him, a plea to stand down and it was strong enough that Sam would’ve but it could be a ploy—he had to protect the omega. All his wolf wanted was to charge and end this danger thus he advanced with a growl—in that moment the alphas scarlet eyes came alive with fire and a strong howl erupted from his chest and something shifted in Sam profoundly, so much that he bowed with a whimper and obeyed. 

Dean comprehended the peril when Sam covered him and blocked out the view. Except he didn’t feel threatened, he felt familiar, he knew the scent but that wasn’t of import. What was important, was the spell so without wasting any time Dean dropped the lit match that hovered over the bowl, only it didn’t hit the bowl—it hit the ground as he found himself turning on his heels to the source of the howl that made Sam’s wolf let out a loud whimper and settle down at the corner of the barn in compliance. 

And then the gods said, ‘ _that’s it folks_.’ 

The alpha brother removed himself from between them and so they met—both of them recognizing each other in different ways. Castiel saw the love he lost, and Dean saw the bravura alpha that haunted his dreams. 

And it was in that moment, all Castiel’s rages melted into the abyss. His green eyes that he only ever saw in dreams of dread and revulsion were more than alive and gazing into his with such marvel, it made his wolf twist with warmth. His freckles came alive under the dim moonlight and his scent wept of awe and perplexities alike. 

The hybrid carefully stepped forward taking in the reservation if it was even allowed at his part and it was—it looked like— because to his surprise the omega inched closer too. He didn’t need to send any signals that he meant no harm, it was nearly like he knew him enough to trust him. 

And the closer he got, he realized why he’d went rampant when he lost him—why his rage swallowed the whole world and until that night he burned in the fire he set himself. 

But why only should his ire be questioned? For it wasn’t the burning ambers of his ire that brought Zetas to their knees, it was the love he bore the omega. It wasn’t his arrogance that stimulated his combustion which resulted in their almost extinction, it was his shattered heart at the omegas alter. 

It was strange to Dean that he felt quite the opposite of what his alpha brother felt, he should be scared but he wasn’t. It was terrifying that the alpha from his dreams moved closer, his head leveled and his scarlet eyes turned pliable, almost in submission. And it was even more terrifying when he mirrored the alpha and they both inched closer—like it was natural, like it was the only thing to do. 

The scent of sea, the earth after monsoon rain and honey cloaked him—it was just like in his dreams, only it was enhanced. The alpha now stood a few long inches away from him, and Dean’s hand rose out of impulse to slowly touch his fur and when his fingers dug into his fur just below the alphas ear, he eased into it, he leaned into it and Dean could feel the blood that he had spilled. He could tell how blemished his hands were of murder and atrocity, but yet, he trusted the alpha to not hurt him. 

It was a strange wonder when their perfumes melded together. The alpha, whose scent could overwhelm any scent, couldn’t overwhelm the omegas and vice versa. It was like coming back home after a long war in that very barn that now smelt _of thunder, of eclipse._

Dean thought he was dreaming when the alpha that exuded power craned his neck to lower his head into Dean’s palm and something warm bloomed in his chest—his insides turning mush. He couldn’t put a finger on what he felt, he never could—but it felt like all the running had come to a stop, all the _find, find, find_ chants in his head had finally found. 

_Mate._ His wolf purred warmly in his chest and Dean’s caressing hand into his fur came to a stop, his eyes widening with shock and he would’ve backed away and tripped if his legs weren’t frozen. 

Panic promptly made home in his nerves, winning over all the gooey and mushy things he was feeling. Suddenly, everything was too overwhelming, too gloomy, too terrifying just like in his nightmares—where the strutting alpha would often be replaced by bucket loads of blood and his own screams. 

The alpha sensed his distress almost immediately and was now nipping and nuzzling lightly against his cheek, sniffing and taking in his scent, sending comfort to calm his nerves. As for Dean, the anxiety had already taken over, rather quickly and it hit him like a baseball bat—it was his mind again, compensating for the life he would never have. He realized it was a dream, just a dream, a vivid dream and his heart contracted against his chest, his throat closed up as he struggled to breathe. 

He was on his knees before he knew, his hands clawing at his own throat—a warm wetness trickled down his cheeks. It was a dream, it was a nightmare—none of it was real. All of a sudden, his body temperature dropped, he felt coldness creeping into his skin and the barn began to spin. 

There wasn’t much he could focus on, just that it hurt, just that none of it was real and the more he thought about that, the more air escaped him. And just in a heartbeat, he was on his back gasping for air, his vision blurring rapidly. 

“You’re not real.” He told the alpha that hovered over him, howling and snarling—nudging him awake but that wasn’t working. It couldn’t because it wasn’t real. It was all in his head. 

“You’re not real.” He choked again and though he was rapidly losing his view, he saw that the alpha fairly understood him and stopped snarling for a moment. Dean could feel the dampness of the alphas tongue as he licked a stripe from Dean’s collarbone to his jaw and the warmth nearly returned in his chest. 

Dean chuckled, woozily. And as real as it seemed, it wasn’t. 

Gloom arrived. Again. 

It all returned and came crashing down, the anxiety, the tightness in his chest, the sweat on his brows and his eyes heavy now—his mind at the verge of collapse, and his body too. It felt like a lost cause to try and get some air to his lungs, so he stopped struggling and let his panic take its course. 

Such a peculiar thing to witness, a deity writhing on the ground, gasping for air like a human—maybe he’d been human too long though his essence screamed anything but. Maybe it were the gods, who wanted to have the last laugh by having the alpha witness the omegas state of vulnerability, once again.

To have his sorrows and rages come alive again. 

Sam sensed the distress in the air and another howl from the alpha broke the trance of his submission as he came rushing towards Dean. Dean’s panic activated his possessive part and he grunted at the alpha, barring his teeth in question that screamed, ‘ _what have you done to my brother?_ ’ Though Sam now realized the alpha was no alpha, which should’ve been scary and it was, in view of how the alpha made him yield with a mere howl—he didn’t trust him but he knew his intentions were not to hurt Dean. 

It wasn’t long before the omega that was fighting to keep his eyes open, lost the battle with his consciousness. 

And so the wheels of the fates came to a stop there. The prophecy had come to pass, the shield and the sword, reunified. Now a new chapter awaited, the old one slammed shut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Causa est infernum, est caelum et purgatorium reservant. Audi verba mea ad portals O pastor, lupus, te rogamus vos et exaltare altitudinem magnam consanguineis, ac caro et sanguis meus-- Plea to hell, heaven & purgatory. Hear my words oh keeper of the portals, I beseech you to raise a wolf-kin, my flesh and blood. 
> 
> (You can totally tell i used shitty google translate for this. I didnt have it in me to research much on the incantation. I have work and I'm super busy these days so sorry!)


	14. & Come Said The Alpha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6k words for this particular chapter folks! I was feeling generous!  
> And I anticipated this fic would stretch longer than i expected, like we're nowhere near the end. DEAN AND CAS JUST MET! There is going to be a lot of pining and mafia shit, so brace yourselves. 
> 
> Also the pic of shirtless cas depicting the tattoos is NOT MINE. I am not taking credit, i was looking for shirtless cas or misha pics so that i could showcase the tattoos (roughly) and there werent any i suppose. And then i came across this one on pinterest, i tried finding the owner on tumblr but it was a goose chase so if anyone knows who the owner is please let me know! THANKS! 
> 
> P.S--I wrote this in a hurry, this is unbeta'd so there ought to be some major and minor mistakes! sorry beforehand folks!

Rowena heaved a sigh of defeat when she heard Castiel and Gabriel bicker like a married couple for the fifth time that night. Bored by the deadly commotion going on between the two, she glanced at the ancient grandfather clock that struck a little after 1. 

It had been a few hours since they’d arrived at the barn to save the day—luckily Dean didn’t go through with the spell but Rowena almost had a heart attack when she saw both the alphas in their wolf forms grunting at each other over Dean’s unconscious body. The poor boy had an anxiety attack, it’d been all too overwhelming of course, Rowena understood that better than anyone. 

Sam, however, had been relieved to see Rowena and Charlie and so was Castiel in his own way. But Gabriel however, wasn’t a welcome sight as both the alphas growled at him when he tried to come close which offended Gabriel to the point, he threw a dramatic fit. 

After a series of arguments that lasted a good 10 seconds, Gabriel decided to take the unconscious omega to their Colorado safe house. It wasn’t surprising that they had one in every city. Castiel agreed. Sam too, let his agreement known by grunting. Charlie for the most part, was at Dean’s side, cradling his head in her lap. 

It was chaos. It was worst then when Czar Krushnic attacked Scotland—that situation had been much bearable, which was saying something. Both the alphas hadn’t shifted back to their human forms, and they both were hell bent on not leaving the omegas side. Gabriel threw another fit, they were both being irrational. 

In the end, both of them conceded and Gabriel severely thanked the gods. Charlie and Rowena both rolled their eyes but helped Gabriel put the omegas unconscious body on Castiel’s back. Sam had let his discomfort known by grunting again, but Rowena was quick to ground him. The last thing she wanted was an unnecessary brawl between them on who would carry the omega to the car. 

Rowena sensed the omegas panic stemmed from his darkest nightmares and ultimately, meeting with Castiel in his wolf form took a toll on his mind as everything came booming down at once and rendered him out cold. 

His compliant body was proof that he was in an overwhelming trance. 

Both the alphas still refused to shift back. Castiel decided to get to the safe house on his own four legs, and so did Sam to her surprise—clearly neither of them wanted to have a verbal and civil conversation with each other hence the drastic measure. Sam wasn’t big on trust, but Charlie had assured him and Rowena hated the fact that she got to see Sam in his wolf form for the first time under such calamitous circumstances. Nearly everyone had their own little crisis going on. 

Thankfully, Gabriel proved to be a fast driver this time and they were at the small but moderately larger than a normal house mansion with a swimming pool they called a safe house within 15 to 20 minutes. The many Russian exploits included having a safe house practically everywhere, which was fantastic in its own way. But well, it was no secret the Russians had a lot of money to spend. 

However, currently the Krushnic brothers were indulging in what looked like a bar fight—it was almost leading up to it. Gabriel naturally wanted to bring Castiel back to Kansas because folks would get suspicious if the American alpha stayed out of sight for too long, and Castiel naturally didn’t want to leave the omega which was a given. 

Curses were spewed in Russian and Rowena wanted nothing more than to just collapse on a bed and sleep for days. But that clearly wasn’t an option—as there was a lot of explaining to do on her part. She knew Charlie had already heard a large chunk of what Castiel and her talked about, and as willing as Charlie was to help Castiel help Dean, she’d come asking questions eventually in a matter of time. 

For now, Dean rested in one of the rooms on the ground floor. Castiel had decided to give them their privacy until they were ready to talk for which Rowena was gratified. 

Sam had shifted back and Rowena braced herself for a million questions, but none came—she explained to him briefly what had occurred and he seemed to take the news of his mother’s alleged survival rather enthusiastically. He didn’t trust Castiel but he was still taken aback by him, he told her, but he trusted Rowena and upon hearing that, a warm smile spread across her face. 

The only question was, how would Dean take such a change of scenery? 

\-------------------- 

Castiel gazed out the round circle window of the mansion, the night sky was the darkest at that hour but the moonlight still filtered through the glass. He smiled, but it turned into a huff when it dawned on him—he’d found him. He’d finally found him and it did things to him and his wolf. 

Though something briefly broke in him when he saw the omega pass out on him, it opened old gashes he called memories but Castiel could feel his heart beat, and that was enough to be his anchor. 

Their meeting of course was no short of a spectacle, but it soothed the pain of the omega not remembering their time before his reincarnation—because if anything, the way he trustingly moved forward, dug his fingers in Castiel’s fur and the way their scents bonded was proof enough that he in fact, felt the remnants of what his past self felt. Castiel found himself smiling again—he would thank the gods if he didn’t hate them, if he didn’t have a bone to grind with them. But to hell with the gods, he would still kill them all. 

But currently, Castiel was occupied by the thoughts of knocking Gabriel out cold who had constantly been nagging at him since they collectively agreed to bring the omega to their Colorado safe house. 

“Castiel, there is a fucking council meeting literally in a day or two and you fucking know you’re needed.” Gabriel half yelled, his hand movements erratic all while Castiel had visibly cooled down after smoking a cigarette or two. The excessive use of profanities was proof Gabriel had lost it. 

“Make an excuse.” Castiel frowned deeply and shrugged, leaning back into the sofa with his legs crossed, resuming his sky gazing. 

Gabriel rubbed his face, pacing around one of the regal 5 rooms the mansion had to offer. Rowena boredly looked around, taking in the expensive décor and furniture, all for a safe house nobody even lived in, or would in the future. 

“And tell them what exactly? ‘ _Oh, I’m sorry the American alpha is currently holed up in a safe house with a rogue alpha and a witch you guys want dead without any protection whatsoever. He won’t be present for this council meeting.’_ ” Rowena’s brows shot up in amusement. Gabriel had the soul of at least a hundred drama queens. 

“Gabe, come on.” Castiel said making a face which couldn’t have been pleading in any way, but it was Castiel’s pleading face. 

“Oh, so I’m Gabe now? I’m always fucking Gabe when you need me to do something real bad. What the fuck do I tell dad?” He asked, hands placed on his hips stubbornly. Castiel rubbed his temples, his patience running out loud and clear but Gabriel did have a point. Castiel just didn’t care that he did. 

“I will say this once, Gabriel,’ He leveled him with a glare, raising his index finger abandoning his pleading and using Gabriel’s pet name to make him relent. “Father wouldn’t care, you know he doesn’t. Go back to Kansas, attend that council meeting in my stead, I will handle what I can from here. I will not leave him alone, not now, not ever. Все чисто?” 

“Yes of course,’ said Gabriel to Castiel’s surprise and stomped out of the room. So that was a sarcastic answer then, but Castiel wasn’t complaining—Gabriel expecting him to leave was a mystery in itself considering he already knew Castiel wouldn’t. 

“He is still scared of Czar, isn’t he?” Rowena noted, but really anyone would. Gabriel’s whole temper tantrum for the most part was about not wanting to sit in a council meeting with their father present, but who could really blame him. 

He didn’t avert his eyes from the sky this time but he could feel light footsteps coming his way and the dip on the sofa indicated Rowena was now sitting beside him in close proximity. “Everyone is.” 

“Not you, though.” She said, Castiel more or less smiled but didn’t reply. Czar Krushnic had a strange work only relationship with everyone, even his sons and of course it scared him. Or it did scare him at some point but it had long passed now. Family had little meaning, but he cared about his siblings. 

“Tell me, how is the omega?” Castiel turned to look at the tired witch. 

“His trance will end by morning, give or take.” She shrugged. “But you have to give him some time, he will see you off his own accord, and so will the brother.” 

Castiel nodded in understanding. It was only fair he gave them time. “Speaking of, how is the young alpha?” 

“He is charmed by you, I believe.” She replied with a fond smile and Castiel turned fully towards her, catching the sparkle in her eyes. 

“It is I who is charmed. For an alpha that hasn’t been trained all his life, he sure is something.” It was unheard of to have such control over ones alpha instincts without training so either he was trained or he was born without needing training. “Would you tell me their names?” Castiel asked expectantly. 

“His name is Samuel Winchester, though he likes being called Sam.” 

Castiel tilted his head with a smirk. Sure, Rowena was great at reading people but so was Castiel and a pretty substantial awareness hit him, though he didn’t sound it right away but it was clear she was, after all, protecting the alpha from Castiel, not the omega. “And the omega?” He asked, sheepishly. 

Rowena pouted rubbing her chin with her index finger and thumb in thought, taking her time to tease and Castiel watched her, amused. She was aware his omega didn’t have a name, it was another sick zeta law his omega had been subjected to and god did it make his blood boil—so Castiel knew she wouldn’t deprive him of his name now.

“Dean,’ she said finally. “His name is Dean Winchester.” 

_Dean._

And it wasn’t his name that sent warmth running down his chest like never before, it was the realization that he was allowed to know his name now, that he had a name to know. But the warmness in his chest turned icy rapidly when he thought back on how unjust it really was what they did to his omega. 

All that time, after losing him, Castiel never believed he died but he did die. They did kill him. It brought back all the old aches and they shouldn’t be hurting so much now— _the omega is back, he is alive, so what he doesn’t remember his old life? Good for him._ He told himself. But the knowledge the omega didn’t have of his old life was Castiel’s burden to carry. And carry, he would. 

Maybe someday he’d be able to share it with him. _With Dean._

“Dean.” He said it out loud and it rolled off his tongue like he’d always known it. 

\--------------------- 

When Dean finally opened his eyes in the morning, Sam was sprawled on the big comfy couch and Charlie beside Dean on the bed and, oh, there was hell to pay. Because the first thing he asked about was of course, the impala—that was still parked somewhere around the barn. Sam wanted to hit him with a pillow out of sheer disbelief because there were other important things that needed their attention. 

Now, Sam knew it wouldn’t take Dean much to dissect the situation but coming to terms with it would be a problem for him. Because well, Dean is not Dean without the drama—and Sam was not prepared to deal with it, alone. He knew Rowena would be able to do a better job at explaining him everything even though he saw in the barn that there was pretty much a quick connection between the alpha and his brother, Dean would have a hard time trusting him still which was only fair. 

As for Sam, if Rowena trusted him—that was enough for him. It was as simple as that and even Charlie had shrugged having been the only one who’d met the alpha in his human form apart from Rowena. When describing him, words ‘ _smoking hot’_ and ‘ _blue eyed romeo’_ were used for him and that certainly did not put Dean’s mind at ease. 

He paced around the spacious room in his boxers for several minutes and Rowena gave Sam an apologetic look. Sure, it was a lot to wrap ones head around but there was something else that bugged Dean about this whole failed resurrection plan—if Sam knew his brother well, it naturally was about the alpha and their meeting at the barn, and Dean passing out on him about which Sam didn’t know what to think and frankly for him, it was enough that Dean was fine and that they hadn’t gone through with the spell. He wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. 

But then again, Dean is not Dean without working himself up over nothing. 

“Are you going to keep us all in suspense here?” Sam rubbed his face leaning back into the fuzzy couch, resting his arm at the back of the sofa just where Rowena was seated—being close to her sent warmth running down his spine, no matter the situation. Which actually was a nice feeling. 

“Dean, come on.” Charlie chimed in from the other side of the room. 

“First of all, this whole thing is shady as hell.” Dean began, finally and of course it was shady but Dean was overlooking the blessing on purpose. “Second of all, you both are going to bring baby here!” He declared pointing at Rowena and Sam both—Sam rolled his eyes and Rowena followed right after. 

“I don’t trust this alpha one bit, just so you know Rowena. And how the hell does he even know mom is still alive? What if it was just a ploy to get Sam, huh?” Dean grimaced, still pacing with his dramatic hand movements. 

“Dean, look at me, I am still alive.” Sam said. “Charlie is still alive, hell, Charlie helped him find us in the first place so he could stop us from doing the spell. I think you’re refusing to see the point here.” Sam pointed out and Dean looked visibly betrayed. 

“And what point would that be?” Dean snapped. 

Sam opened his mouth to snap back but Rowena cut in, “That he’s trying to help, Dean. You know I wouldn’t jeopardize you all, ever.” 

“She’s right, Dean. If he wanted, he could’ve done a lot while you were out. He had several opportunities to hurt Sam and me, but he saved your life, brought all of us here and he knows about your mother. I think you should give him a chance.” Charlie made her point, her own hands crossed across her chest and that did it for Dean. 

“You met him in the barn and your instincts are sharper than mine. You know he means no harm, Dean and this could be it—all this running could stop and we could settle.” Upon which Dean scoffed, plopping on the nearby chair, rubbing his stubble in thought. Sam knew settling down was the last thing both of them thought would happen for them but here it was, a ripe open window of opportunity. 

“Did you talk to him yet?” Dean asked with a sigh and Sam passed a small smile of victory to Rowena over his brother’s unnecessary drama. Dean could never, for the life of him, accept something good—he always had to wait for the other shoe to drop and that was what he was doing even now, Sam supposed. 

“No, I was waiting for you. Do you want me to first?” But the truth was that he wouldn’t know how to act considering their little tussle in the barn, Sam was embarrassed because to his shock that apparently was the American alpha he’d been growling and grunting at. 

“No,’ he replied quickly. “I-I want - give me some time okay? I want to think.” 

“No rush, dearie. However much time you take, he will wait.” 

She said genuinely and Sam smiled—knowing Rowena spoke from what she felt and she was a seer, she could feel and see more than Sam or anyone else could for the matter but there was already something poetic in the way Dean met the alpha, the way he closed such a long distance on foot to save Dean, the way he had been so protective of Dean he refused to leave his side—of course it could very well just be his need to protect the omega, like it was Sam’s, but no, it was more than just that, he thought. 

Maybe Sam was just assuming things, maybe it was just hybrid protectiveness—a way to woo a potential mate—but there was an evident realness about him even in his daunting wolf form. 

Maybe that was just the thing that was scaring Dean. 

“Go get baby now, would you?” Sam gave an exasperated look to Rowena and she shrugged with a smile that said, ‘ _come on, then_.’ At least, that way he’d get to spend some time with her, away from all the madness. 

\----------------- 

Dean could feel his scent. It enveloped the whole mansion making it impossible to tell in which part of the mansion he was residing in. So getting out of the pretty chandelier clad room to wander the gorgeous mansion was out of the question since he needed to make his mind first, before seeing him. He felt like a teenager hiding from his crush but there was a lot to think, a lot of dreams and nightmares to tap into. 

His wolf was just like the wolf that had haunted his dreams and nightmares forever, as long as he could remember his eyes had seen him, his nose had remembered his scent. It was freaky, but there wasn’t only just one thing that was freaky, there was a ton of it. And Sam seemed to be taking it like a champ and so was Charlie. Though Dean couldn’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop, because it always did—nothing so easy just ever fell into their laps. 

Rowena and Sam had been off to get baby, Charlie had actually went out to the kitchen which she described as heaven, and brought back sandwiches and a ton of snacks. She kept assuring Dean, in one way or the other—she more or less trusted the alpha which HOLY FUCK was the hybrid and Russian mafia and at present they were holed up in this big ass mansion that served as a freaking safe house to the Russian mafia—such gorgeous interior designing and fancy furniture for a place nobody would live in. _Pity,_ Dean thought. 

Hotel rooms had nothing on the room he was in, especially the bed he slept in. 

It was straight out of a real estate poster, but better—the whole mansion, Dean could tell was clad with modern designs and furniture with fancy lights. And god, the windows were round circles, there were two in the room and despite the room being on the ground floor, the sunlight breached the transparent cream curtains gorgeously. 

The room itself was a mixture of a bedroom and a living room, with around 3 to 4 different sized couches spread around—the bathroom smelt of money and if Dean was right, which he always is, there was a swimming pool probably at the back. _“I just know it, don’t ask how.”_ He told Charlie, who confirmed it and Dean grinned with pride. 

But his grin faltered when he realized how small all these immense things made him feel. A nagging worry and intrusive whispers made home in his mind and Dean found himself going down the rabbit hole of self doubt, once again. 

“You’d like him.” Charlie assumed, flipping through the channels as she snuggled beside him on the soft bed. 

“Who?” Dean absentmindedly asked, knowing the answer to his question. 

“Castiel. You’d like him.” She repeated, and placed the remote down—Scooby doo reruns now paraded clearly on the 65 inch LED TV. 

Dean sighed, lowering himself more to lie down comfortably but didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure what to say. “You do realize you’re looking a gift horse in the mouth?” Again, she was right but Dean didn’t dare turn his head to look at Charlie, he knew she’d have that compelling look on her face. 

“I know.” He said quietly, occasionally trying to focus on Scooby and gang. 

The thing was, it might’ve been easy for Sam to come to terms with the whole thing but they’d spent their whole lives running away from wolf-kin, all this time they thought this alpha who was now being so hospitable towards them—was hunting them and wanted Sam dead. And suddenly, all the tables turned at the speed of the light so forgive a guy for being skeptical as hell despite his omega hormones. 

“You know, you can talk to me right?” Charlie pulled herself up and plopped on her elbow to face Dean. Dean slightly turned his head to give her a genuine smile and a nod because he knew he could talk to Charlie about stuff he wouldn’t want to talk about with Sam. “Give this a chance okay? Remember we talked about this—the settling down, the normal life and all that shebang. You with a sexy mate, several mini Deans and-

That was as far as she could get because Dean was again shoving her down the bed with a cushion playfully. Charlie had always wanted that for Dean, and deep down she knew that Dean wanted that for himself as well. Though Dean would never openly admit it, but yeah maybe a normal life wouldn’t hurt but so far nothing about his life had been normal. 

“Seriously you and that tall ass bitch should produce a hallmark movie.” Dean retorted as he rolled off the bed, ducking another pillow attack from Charlie. “He is head over heels for that redhead, and I say it aint long until you join the sappy love gang and find yourself a redhead too.” 

He gave her his best shit eating grin, as he sat down on the chair by the window—it was a nice view. The stretch of un-mowed grass around the mansion was a refreshing sight—being cooped up in a room for a few hours would make even a patch of grass appealing. And Dean felt nowhere near ready to have a conversation with this alpha, but a part of him didn’t wanted to wait anymore—that he suspected was the omega part of his brain. 

Although, he would be lying if he said, he wasn’t curious as heck to see and know the alpha. It wasn’t just Charlie who thought Dean would like this Castiel guy, but Dean himself thought that he just might. And it was so not a comforting thought—he knew the alpha didn’t mean any harm but if anything their meeting in the barn left Dean with a lot of mixed emotions and feelings that he couldn’t quite understand himself. 

For the next few minutes, Dean observed the clock hands at work, watching it as it struck 3.05, then 3.10, then eventually 3.30—his thoughts ran wild, and his heart thumped in his chest for some reason. He shook his head a little pulling his train of thoughts to a stop and decided it was about time he quit waiting for Sam and Rowena to arrive with his duffle bags and help himself with the shower. 

He sure as hell was not going to meet the alpha dirty, his scent may be the sweetest but body hygiene was still an essential attribute. So he shuffled through the closet of whoever the room belonged to, he was past caring at that point and to his surprise, when he slid open the door to the fancy closet, he found they were full of suits, expensive suits, like Armani sort of expensive and he mentally slapped himself into remembering they were Russian mafia so he should get used to their unused luxuries—they probably were all suit wearing monkeys. 

He heaved a sigh and turned his head to seek Charlie’s council, but when he did, she was practically asleep with her mouth open and a little drool skidded down her cheek. His face twisted into a scowl, but he let out a fond chuckle and decided not to wake her. 

Searching a few more closet drawers, he came across all sorts of tees, henleys, sweatpants, cargo pants and whatnot—his jaw basically hit the floor. These Russians had hoarded the safe house like their lives depended on it, maybe it did—who knows. Shrugging, he pulled a full sleeved grey Henley, and a cargo pant to go with it. There even were clean underwears. _This must really be heaven_ , he thought. 

Though, the water pressure of the immensely decorated lavish bathroom with floor that felt like walking on soft velvet, Dean was quick about the shower. By the time he got out, it was already 4 and there was no sign of Sam and Rowena and Charlie was still asleep. 

“Screw it,’ he muttered towel drying his hair for a brief moment before taking one final look at himself in the mirror. He looked better, and fresher than before—shower really does wonders, he thought and decided it was time to get out of the room. 

He quietly stepped out, closing the door after him gently so as to not wake Charlie from her nap. Heaving a loud sigh, he straightened himself up and walked around the spacious hall. The walls were adorned with round mirrors, there was an elegant chandelier situated right in the middle of the foyer. The sofas situated just beneath it, and they matched the cream colored theme the whole mansion had going on. 

Dean’s eyebrows shot up and just a few feet away a little behind the room was the Italian styled kitchen which Charlie told him was stocked and it sure looked like it was. He huffed in surprise, but mentally reminded himself that this was just a safe house, there was more where all this came from. 

He could tell by the stairs situated near the entrance that the first floor of the mansion was larger than the ground floor, but he liked the coziness of it. The hall, a small view of the stairs and the entrance could be seen from where he stood in the kitchen, which frankly was awesome. He indulged himself in the kitchen gadgets he’d never even seen before—the waffle maker, the fancy coffee machine, he was most taken aback by what seemed like a vegetable chopper to him. It would be exciting, Dean thought, to have a proper home with all the silly kitchen stuff. It was no secret that Dean loved cooking, his bacon and cheese burgers were to die for but there hadn’t been many occasions in his life to make a fuss about a hobby. 

A sound of a loud splash took his attention next and it must be coming from the pool area, he thought. To his disclosure there was a massive sliding door at the back of the kitchen that opened to the backyard of the mansion. He looked around sheepishly before opening it, and when he did, a strong gust of wind sent down _the scent_ down his nostrils—he couldn’t help but breathe into it. 

Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air in the whole world to support his lungs and Dean would damn himself to hell if he were to pass out again. He took in a deep breath, and climbed out into the open—his eyes wandered right first where a couple untamed bushes rested and to his left came in view a rectangular pool and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw that someone was swimming in it, hence the sound of the splash. _And the scent._

The closer he got, the stronger the scent got and Dean let all his anticipations and worry be enfolded by it. This was it, he thought, as he moved closer and stood just a few feet away from the pool, watching the graceful flaps of his arms. 

He gawked for what seemed like hours, it was easy to get lost in the rhythm of his swirling body in the water though Dean was yet to see him right. And his heart began to beat in his ears when he saw him pull his body up and out of the water. Dean made a choked sound that thank god, didn’t leave his throat because the alpha was butt naked. 

It startled Dean in a pleasant way, the stretch of tanned skin flush of water droplets racing down, broadest set of shoulders he’d ever seen and arms like machine guns—the curve of his ass and his hips were pleasing on the eyes to say the least and that was just his back. 

Dean’s eyes didn’t relent on the beauty of his back as he bent down a little to obtain a towel—he stood in the same position, face away from Dean as he ruffled his hair and god, they were jet dark and so tousled, Dean could tell even from a distance. He wrapped the same towel painfully low around his waist and turned—another gasp of wonder died in his throat as he took another step forward out of sheer instinct and the alpha gaped at Dean in astonishment but stepped forward slowly mimicking him. 

Dean could see a tattoo on his right pec, a round circle with strange symbols in and around it. His eyes raked down and he found another, scribbles on his left rib that looked like some dead language. And Dean would be lying if he said that didn’t turn him on because that was all manner of hot. 

_Mate._ His wolf squirmed. 

_Mate._ He screamed and Dean thought if it were any louder the alpha would’ve heard it. 

As he got closer, body clad of a single towel around waist—Dean forgot all about his blinding physique and sexy tattoos when he looked at his chiseled face and his eyes, god his eyes. They were the kind that looked like they battled the endless skies and oceans for the color blue, putting them all to shame—so blue it made Dean’s heart leap into his throat. 

A soulful look laced his face, as he craned his neck a little working up his collar bones and neck muscles and god, Dean wanted to drown in embarrassment because he was downright gawking at this hot semi naked alpha without shame. 

An almost sad smile came over his face and Dean found something briefly shatter in his chest, like he knew what it meant. He muttered something, his voice low and gravelly and full of a raw emotion but Dean couldn’t quite make it out. 

_Lubimaya? Lubi moya?_ Dean couldn’t tell, but it was a Russian word or phrase that much he could tell because well, duh, he was Russian. 

Dean tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry and honestly, it was starting to get creepy just standing there and not saying anything. “You’re Castiel.” It came out more like a statement than a question but it broke the silence and the alpha’s face lit up. 

“Hello, Dean.” He said, his voice hoarse but he poured such softness in his name it sent warmth running down his chest. “I sincerely hope you’re feeling well now.” God, his voice, Dean found himself thinking. Though he spoke perfectly, almost too perfectly, but Dean couldn’t help but notice a hint of his thick native accent just a little below his words. 

Dean cleared his throat. “I uh, thank you. I feel pretty good.” He lowered his eyes because goddamn his wolf squirmed so greatly, he was pretty sure if he didn’t have such a good control over him Castiel would know. 

“I hope you found this place….adequate.” Upon which Dean scoffed as he met his glassy blues, it reminded him of remorseless storms. 

“Adequate? Are you kidding me?” He let slip, amused to his wits and a confused look laced Castiel’s face, like he didn’t quite understood the sarcasm behind his words. “I think this place is nuts, considering no one even lives here, I mean the bathroom alone—” 

And he was starting to ramble rather enthusiastically and when he realized, a blush rose to paint his cheeks. Dean could feel Castiel’s eyes not wavering from him, like he thought Dean would disappear if Castiel removed his eyes from over him for even a second. 

“Ah, yes. You would find we are to a certain extent, very theatrical in everything we do.” His dry tone implied sarcasm and Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little at the attempt. 

“I think I know.” 

“You do?” He asked, tilting his head and Dean found himself lost for words because that was a fucking adorable thing to do for a hybrid alpha. 

“Yeah,’ he nodded, trying not to look at his naked chest but his face was equally distracting. “I guess I do. This ‘safe house’ certainly puts the _theatrics_ in perspective.” 

That earned Dean a little breathy huff and he couldn’t help but be taken aback—by the fact that he stood in front of the American alpha, who was semi naked by the way and though he’d felt the torment and blood on his hands that would send anyone running for the hills, there was a raw connection he felt was making itself known. 

For it wasn’t just his wolf form that had haunted Dean’s dreams and nightmares, it were also his blue eyes. Dean would know them anywhere, the wolf, the eyes, the scent—it was such a bizarre thing, but it was Dean’s thing. 

Again, Dean found himself openly ogling at his face, and he wasn’t sure what his own features were trying to convey, he could feel his expressions were a mixture of wonder and awe altogether. A soft look took over Castiel’s chiseled features, like it did before when he muttered something in Russian. 

“What is it?” He asked, his neck still craned and Dean’s wolf basked under his gaze needily. 

Dean looked down at his feet, shaking his head before he looked up to meet his eyes again. There was something so electrical about looking at him in all his naked glory, it felt like they were hardly strangers. “Nothing.” He said. “Just déjà vu.” 

A corner of Castiel’s mouth quirked up and it was now Dean’s turn to bask under his small crooked ghost of a smile and stunning eyes. “Uh, are you gonna put some clothes on so, uh, we could- 

“Oh,’ he scowled looking down at his nakedness as realization struck him and another word that Dean couldn’t quite comprehend escaped his lips but it sure sounded like a cuss. 

Dean sighed. He might have an accent kink. 

“My apologies, I uh, I got, carried away with the conversation- 

And now Castiel was rambling and it was a sight, because this strong alpha that exuded power even in his bareness was tongue tied and embarrassed—it was a bit engaging but Dean had to remind himself that there was a lot that was still unresolved between them. He might’ve saved him, he might have clear intentions, even good intentions but Dean was still in some unknown alpha’s territory. Now that thought should have scared him shitless, for Sam and Charlie and even himself but a large part of him knew for sure that he was safe, Sam was safe, and Charlie was safe. 

“I uh, I’ll just come back later maybe when you’re uh dressed,’ Dean averted his eyes and turned his body halfway away from him because no serious conversation would have happened with Castiel looking like that. 

“No, wait,’ he heard and turned back, only to see that Castiel had moved forward and stood mere inches away from Dean now. And Dean gaped again because this up close, he looked even more ethereal—like a Greek statue in all its magnificence. Dean’s breath hitched in his throat and he visibly gulped, his scent was as magical as his face and Dean wanted nothing but to bury his face in his neck, or maybe that was his wolf talking. 

Castiel was all up in his personal space, equally enraptured by Dean it seemed because they both stood like idiots just staring, but it could just be wishful thinking on Dean’s part…or not. He was, after all, an omega, alphas would line up to want his ass and that thought ruined the moment. Dean was just a unicorn, a trophy omega and a breeding machine for any alpha—no matter his status in the wolf-kin world, a piece of god, they told him he was—but all that didn’t matter. He would only be ever wanted for being an omega and a hole to fill. 

His scent would have soured, he knew. But if Castiel noticed which Dean knew he did, he didn’t say anything about it, neither did his expression changed—he was still staring at Dean, his neck tilted a little still like he was in sort of a trance. 

Dean cleared his throat but didn’t have the heart to back away. Despite his wild and self hating thoughts, he couldn’t pull himself away from him. And Castiel didn’t either. “You don’t have to go.” He said, with a ghost of a smile and if Dean was in a good frame of mind, he’d have smiled wide but hearing him say that did lift his mood by a fraction. 

Dean nodded, not knowing what Castiel even meant by that. And suddenly Castiel was backing away, his shoulder brushed past Dean sending down all sorts of currents down his…well, everywhere and for a moment he thought Castiel was just leaving him to stand there—but when he turned to look, Castiel stood behind, waiting for him. 

He extended his arm in the air to Dean’s utter surprise and joy even, maybe. Dean blinked, uncertain of what to do, a kind of battle ensued in his mind. _Oh my god! Am I supposed to take his hand? Or what?_

“Come,’ he professed, arm like a gun still extended for Dean to take and Dean thought if this really was heaven, maybe he just died when he passed out in the barn and this was just his idea of an afterlife. “I will get changed and we can sit and talk,’ he said, his voice gravelly and hopeful both and something warm bloomed in Dean’s chest, like a flower blooms in spring. Dean looked down at his large hand and long deft fingers as he continued. “If you’re comfortable.” 

Dean smiled small, tuning the world out of his head in that moment. His dominance was shining bright maybe without him even knowing but he was also asking for permission, in a way. Dean thought he’d just take, the man of his stature would just take. But he was asking, so softly, and Dean couldn’t deny him. He totally could, he was an omega, _he was the omega_ —he could say no, walk past him humiliating him in the process, Castiel knew that but he was still asking. 

So when Dean took his hand, and when it felt all kinds of right—Dean knew he was in for a long ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the meaning of the enochian tattoo is a secret that Cas would tell himself. So no translations as of now! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you're enjoying.


	15. Mother Mary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm a litte late but im like trying to post long chapters, they'll only get longer in future.  
> Anyways, so this is it for this chap, it might suck a little but im working nights now so my brain is friedddd! Excuse any dumb mistakes my good samaritans! <3 
> 
> LMK if you liked it, or if you didnt--all types of criticisms are open (im feeling a little bold ;)

Castiel’s wolf was celebrating every little moment of Dean, his forest green eyes, his freckles, his shy smiles, his scent and Castiel spoiled him, indulged him to gaze at him openly which he noticed made Dean’s cheeks come alive with color. It felt like making up for all the lost time, but even decades wouldn’t be enough for that. 

It was so natural, talking to him. Neither Castiel nor Dean had to force anything, it just came unsurprisingly, so much that when Castiel held his hand out for him by the pool, he took it and a nuclear plant went off under Castiel’s skin. His wolf howled, in victory and Castiel smiled all the way in, with Dean’s hand in his. 

“So, what’s with the safe house?” He asked, when Castiel lead him up the stairs and he regretted letting Dean’s hand go almost immediately just to adjust his towel. He could’ve just let it fall. 

“This one is in the name of some business tycoon.” Castiel glanced back, he couldn’t stop glancing back at him. “It is for protection in case things go bad.” He shrugged. “We have several, scattered here and there.” 

Dean frowned in astonishment Castiel saw from his peripheral vision but he was quick to conceal it. It made Castiel uncomfortable, that a deity like him that was worthy of everything gold in the world was surprised at such little comfort, less than half of what he really deserved. 

“How often have things gone bad for Russian mafia?” Castiel smiled at that to himself hearing another note of playful sarcasm in his voice as they reached the end of the stairs and he found Dean taking a quick interest in the surroundings. 

And Castiel found himself standing in the middle of the foyer just staring at him, taking in the beauty that was Dean Winchester. Oh, how he’d missed looking at that face. It once was the source of all his happiness and now after decades, just when Castiel had given up on everything came in Dean, like a hurricane—making him feel everything so deeply once again, that his insides ached physically. 

“You would be surprised.” He replied, and Dean didn’t turn around but Castiel could see the shudder in his body and knew he was blushing. “I won’t be long.” At that Dean turned around, still not meeting his eyes but gave him an awkward nod that Castiel found endearing. 

He disappeared into the nearest room and Dean watched him go all the way. He smiled to himself again—that was the most he had smiled in years. 

Castiel didn’t want to be away from his presence for long, he wanted to shower Dean with all his attention so he emerged from the room just a few moments later—wearing a normal white button down with rolled up sleeves and jeans. He wanted to make Dean feel comfortable, so he opted out of wearing a suit—suits mean business and Dean wasn’t business. 

He found Dean standing near the window, quietly watching the colors of the sun—it was almost time for it to set and who doesn’t like sunsets. So he stood at a distance behind him, watching hues of oranges and yellows painting Dean’s face and rest assured it was a sight to behold. 

“You know it’s rude to sneak up on people.” He uttered a few moments later and Castiel averted his gaze from him for a short moment and then Dean turned to meet him halfway. His tone was humorous but Castiel still felt a strange pang of mortification on his part. 

“Forgive me, the view was in some measure distracting.” Castiel countered only to see the rapid flush rising to Dean’s cheeks and when he met his eyes again, it seemed the forest in his eyes was on fire. “I like sunsets.” He added for safe measures, not wanting to freak Dean out. But he sure wasn’t talking about the sunset. 

“Why did you save me?” Dean blurted out of nowhere—his voice soft in wonder but his scent, doubtful. Castiel ached at the question, he didn’t know why but he was expecting him to ask, ‘ _why didn’t you save me?_ ’ 

“Why wouldn't I? You deserved to be saved.” Castiel replied in a certain tone, seating himself on the couch near the window. He looked up at Dean, who had a conflicted look on his face, and gestured him to do the same. He did. 

Dean scoffed bitterly. “Because I’m an omega?” He asked, almost in challenge and Castiel whiffed the tenacity in him. 

“Yes and no,’ he replied, truthfully. “We look out for our own, Dean. You deserved to be saved not just because you’re an omega, but because you're wolf-kin, one of our own. As is your brother.” There was half truth to that statement, but he couldn’t tell Dean that if he had failed one more time in saving him—Castiel would have gone mad with grief. 

“It’s rich coming from someone who slaughtered his kind.” Dean advanced and though his tone was light in some way—Castiel couldn’t help but be in awe of this omega’s ferocity. This omega, who was bashful and blushing just moments ago, was now questioning Castiel. “Forgive me, but I’m having a hard time trusting your intentions here despite Rowena vouching for you.” 

“You have every reason to doubt me, Dean.” He began fixing his eyes on Dean with a gentle look. “I will not lie to you, I have no reason to. Yes, I have slaughtered and I have murdered, I have razed them to the ground but believe me, they deserved every punishment I inflicted upon them—they had it coming for a very long time.” 

Dean listened, closely. “If you’re worried about your brother, I give you my word, no harm will come to him as long as I live—and to you as well.” Castiel could see that warmed Dean a bit, so he continued. “I understand you haven’t heard much good about me in particular, and the bad you’ve heard is, in all probability accurate but there’s much you don’t know about me, and I about you. I would like to change that.” 

Dean’s eyes didn’t waver from Castiel’s face—he was taking him all in, searching his face and scent for anything that might prove his words ineffective but Castiel wasn’t lying—deep down Dean knew he could trust him. 

“And I want to help you find your mother, because I know what it feels like to lose one—I carry that pain with me to this day—so I am here, if you’ll have me.” That did it for Dean, Castiel supposed as he didn’t utter anything, but his eyes lit up with fireworks again. A smile ghosted over his lips and Castiel’s wolf howled in triumph _again._

_He will have you,_ he piped.

_He will have you,_ he repeated.

"I hope my honeyed words were enough comfort for you." Castiel made another attempt at jesting, he had realized pretty quickly he wasn't good at it. Gabriel never let him forget his inability to make snide and sarcastic comments but that earned him a little chuckle from Dean. It brightened Castiel.

“So, uh, can I call you Cas? Castiel is like…I don’t know, too weighty?” He joked, further lightening the tense atmosphere, and Castiel found Dean wasn’t a man of many words but his expressions made up for it and fondness flourished over Castiel’s countenance. “Or do I have to call you alpha?” There was a look of fixed horror on Dean’s face at that. 

Castiel let out an inconspicuous chuckle. “You may call me whatever you want.” 

Dean pursed his lips into a tight line, another blush making itself known on his freckled skin. Castiel could drown in him and it still wouldn’t be enough—any space between them was too much and at the moment, there was a lot of it. But Castiel had waited decades, had spent a lifetime in hopes of seeing him again—so he was happy, for the first time, to just exist in the omegas orbit. 

“Would you tell me about my mom now?” There was a note of desolation in his voice. Castiel had come to know better now, that Dean was a ferocious beast when it came to his family. 

“Everything.” He sighed, looking at the wonder that stood in front of him. “I would tell you everything.” 

There was again that moment of silence between them, where they let their eyes devour each other and their scents melded in harmony. And it would feel like the outside world had ceased to exist—what existed was Dean’s forest green eyes, and his sweet scent that made Castiel weak in the knees. 

But the moment was interrupted by a noise, that Castiel realized was of the entrance door opening and closing. The russet furred alpha’s scent hit him hard and fast,’ “It seems your brother is back.”

\------------------------ 

When Sam saw his brother coming down the stairs with, who looked and smelt like the alpha—he didn’t know what to make of it considering Dean wanted some time to think and Dean asking for time, usually meant, well, a long time. 

Rowena had beamed at the scene beside him, and Sam’s eyes caught the hybrids. He was every inch an alpha in his human form as well, his scent was still as grim as the ocean but it melded with Dean’s enough that it seemed somewhat gentle. 

The introduction was initiated by the hybrid and Sam for a few short moments forgot his own name. Dean and Rowena exchanged smug smiles at Sam’s lack of control over his own expressions but he wouldn’t deny he was fascinated by the hybrid even though he’d forced the submission out of Sam in the barn for which he graciously apologized. He was just thankful Charlie wasn’t there, she’d have teased the shit out of him. 

He then saw, when they settled down in the hall, how casually Castiel and Dean danced around each other. Dean, who thought this was the worst idea ever, who didn’t trust Castiel one bit just a few hours ago—wasn’t even ready to talk to him—apparently had one conversation with him and was on board with the whole idea. 

It was an unusual picture, to see Castiel—this powerful creature, a god who couldn’t be killed—look so human as he smiled and moved so gently around Dean. Sam was no fool, he knew what Castiel was, what he had done, and he could feel the power that he emanated— but with Dean around, it was different. 

Charlie soon made her way out of the room, rubbing sleep off her eyes—startled looking at all the gang in the same room. She passed a look to Sam, eyes wide, expressions like she’d seen a ghost but in reality it was just Castiel making a drink for Dean and then passing it to him. 

Sam shrugged taking a seat next to Dean. They were in the main hall by the entrance and the only conversation that had happened between Dean and him was about Baby and whether she was okay or not—which by the way, classic Dean. So far, in Castiel’s presence Dean had avoided all the curious looks Sam and Charlie both gave him. 

Castiel lit a cigarette, out of habit Sam could tell but it was polite that he asked if it was okay beforehand. His attention and the direction of his question was altogether at Dean, before he realized Sam and the others were there too. Sam couldn’t help but smirk at Charlie unobtrusively, before he nodded at Castiel with a small smile. 

Sam cleared his throat loudly, his questions at the ready because let’s just say, Sam isn’t Sam without his thirst for knowledge. But before he could open his mouth to speak, Dean had already begun. 

“Alright, let’s address the gorilla in the living room without any further _theatrics_ ,’ he spoke putting emphasize on the word theatrics, his eyes found Castiel like it was some inside joke between them. “Let’s hear it Cas, what do you know about her?” 

Sam wasn’t surprised at the shortened version of Castiel’s name, no. His brother had a thing for pet names, Rowena became Ro on occasions, Charlie was red, Sam was Sammy and apparently now Castiel was Cas. What surprised him (just a little) was the way he said it—so indifferently, like this wasn’t the hybrid alpha sitting among them. But Sam often forgot that his brother was a god too. 

Castiel glanced at Rowena briefly placing his glass of whiskey on the table. “There is no plain way to put this so I will just say it—your mother infiltrated Azazel’s inner circle for us.” He said carefully, eyes fixated on both the brothers. “She helped us take America.” 

“What?” Sam’s eyes narrowed at the revelation but what was he even expecting. “Mom was a Russian spy?” His face twisted into a scowl at Dean, who just so happened to be taking it well but it was Dean, so his inner walls were probably crumbling. 

“She was very much American.” Castiel raised his palm. “Allow me to finish,’ he said in an authoritative manner. “Please.” He added and Dean’s hand found Sam’s shoulder, Sam conceded with a nod. “I suppose to some degree you both are aware of the packs you belonged to?” He more like asked than stated. Dean and Sam nodded before catching each other’s brief glance. 

“Your maternal pack, the Campbells wanted Azazel gone and for the most part, they knew we wouldn’t sit idle for long. That is when Mary came to Russia on her packs behalf to offer help in taking him down, I met her but briefly there—but I must say she was an incredible woman, very headstrong. If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t have succeeded in taking America.” He placed each word carefully. 

“Now I don’t know how deeply you know about your packs, but there was a massive commotion between them when we came—Campbells wanted to yield to the Russians with Azazel dead but the Winchesters were loyal to him still.” 

“What do you mean the Winchesters were loyal to Azazel?” Dean asked, disbelief written on his face. And at that point, Sam just listened, processed. 

“Mary could infiltrate Azazel’s inner circle in the first place because John Winchester was his right hand or so they say.” 

“But Azazel killed him—why would he kill someone from his own inner circle.” Upon that account from Dean something shifted in Castiel’s expressions like that was news to him. 

“Are you certain Azazel was the one to kill John Winchester?” He inquired, head tilted and cigarette forgotten in between his fingers. 

Dean nodded. “Then it is true, the Campbells _were_ trying to protect you from him…and from the Winchesters too, I suppose.” He said with a new certainty in his tone, like a piece of puzzle just fell in place. “If Azazel killed him, it means he paid the price for your mother’s betrayal. And if your mother let it happen, she wanted it to happen.” 

“You mean to say there was no love lost between them?” Dean scowled, trying to keep his voice as neutral of emotions as possible. 

“I don’t know, but there was cause for altercation between them considering their loyalties lied in opposite directions.” 

“How can you know that?” Sam asked, not in challenge but it was a genuine curiosity. 

“You have to realize the Winchesters and Campbells were undividable—for one of them to betray the other was no small venture.” He explained, eyes going from over Dean to Sam. “And I have come to understand your mother’s tactics as of late—she did not go out of her way to help us just because she wanted to rid America of Azazel and the zetas, spying for Russia was a grave risk to take for such a trivial matter.” 

Sam had resented Mary silently, for years—he had craved and resented her all the same. He hated her for not coming back but all this while, she was protecting them, _protecting Dean_. 

“This is—this is too much,’ Dean said, rising from the couch because true, it really was too much to wrap ones mind around. 

“Why would the Winchesters support Azazel, it makes no sense.” Sam directed that statement at Castiel, who just so happened to have all the answers apparently. It was a shame, they knew nothing and such havoc had gone down. 

“It makes perfect sense if that’s what John wanted as the pack alpha but maybe Azazel had something on your father—something that gave Azazel power over him.” Rowena answered, and Castiel agreed with a nod. 

“And then with John Winchester dead, it is possible that Azazel’s zeta disciples took over the pack in order to try and get to Dean. That would explain why she took you two and ran.” He concluded, eyes following Dean every now and then because Dean’s scent spiked of anger and a whole lot of other emotions. 

“It also explains why Campbells went to war with the Winchesters and well, no one really lived to tell the tale.” Rowena huffed and Sam wanted to give his brain a good shake because it seemed like it had stopped working. 

“So mom went to all that trouble because of me, t-to protect me—well that’s just super, aint it?” Dean laughed bitterly, turning his face away from everyone and toward the darkness of the window, empty glass still in hand. 

Sam could hear the hurt in his voice, he glanced back at Charlie who was as shaken as he was with all the mind boggling exposure. Castiel rose from the couch and walked past Rowena to Dean with the bottle of whiskey in hand. 

“That is just your mother’s love for you, Dean.” He tilted his head down to meet Dean’s slumped posture as he refilled his empty glass. It was such a small statement but it held such weight, and even though that comfort was directed at Dean, Sam couldn’t help but let the remnants of it wash over him. 

“You said she was alive,’ Sam interjected, suddenly not wanting to complete his query—his words had forsaken him and he felt a strange sadness pooling in his chest. Then he found Rowena at once, at his side with her reassuring hand rubbing small circles on his back. 

“Yes,’ Castiel affirmed as he straightened, now facing everyone. Dean also followed and turned, sipping from his glass not moving away from Castiel’s vicinity. “As payment for her aid, she asked for safe passage—a tomb.” 

“You mean a hibernation tomb or a prison tomb?” Dean asked. 

Sam had read all about these tombs. Hibernation tombs were myths as far as he had read—it was said the elders rested there, and these tombs would open when the time was right—which was the worst myth Sam had ever come across. Prison tombs were like, well, prison—a life of solitary for the ones who had committed treason and crimes against the council. 

“Neither, actually,’ he offered. “My uh, father, had grown rather fond of her resilience—which is uncommon for a man of his standing but at any rate he offered her something better than a tomb—his own bunker in America.” Dean frowned, and Sam’s eyebrows mildly shot up. “It is one of the locations that is off maps, I believe.” 

Sam shouldn’t be surprised or shocked, they’re the freaking Russian Mafia but whoa! Off the maps location? Consider him painted rapt and curious both! 

“You think she’s still there?” Sam asked, impatiently. 

“No,’ he said. “But she was. The bunker was marked occupied for a long time.” 

“And you and your father didn’t think it was a good idea to, I don’t know, maybe go check on her? That’s how you look after your own, huh? Leaving them to fend for themselves?” Dean’s voice was low but his tone was harsh and hostile. He turned his head to glance, more like glare at Castiel and moved away from him, his palm rubbing his forehead.

Castiel sighed loudly and looked away for a moment before he spoke. “However fond my father might have been of your mother, their affiliation was strictly work—it ended when the work ended.” 

“You would, perhaps, in time come to know Czar Krushnic doesn’t really care about anyone.” Rowena intervened, but Castiel was quick to speak again. Sam waited, seeing the atmosphere had already begun to get more tensed with Dean and Castiel’s scents in conflict.

“And I did check on her,’ that made Dean jerk his head around to meet Castiel’s eye, like he wasn’t expecting his words to be true. “It’s true,’ he replied to the disbelieving look on Dean’s face—his tone all but flat. “I tried contacting her within the bunker, but she shut me down. I didn’t push,’ he shrugged. “It wasn’t my place to know what she planned to do with the bunker, it was hers.” 

The sharp edges in Dean’s scent and his posture dithered a bit, as he held his gaze to Castiel’s. Castiel was the one this time to look away. 

“But the bunker was occupied?” Sam tried to confirm, leaning back into the comfort of the couch. It was insane how Rowena just knew when he needed comfort and support, and she was always there to give it to him. 

“For a long time, yes,’ he verified with a nod, lighting another cigarette and taking a long drag like his life depended on it. “Until it wasn’t.” 

“Until a few years ago there was talk in the north, a message was sent to me, of a conspiracy that the zetas were regrouping to attack us from right under our noses.” There was a beat of grave silence, it startled even Rowena. “It wasn’t a threat, but it was a gracious warning and it came from your mother.” 

All Sam could think in that moment was that, it was nice not knowing. 

\----------------------- 

“Oh, I know that look.” Nikolas leered, plunked on the couch with a Cosmopolitan of all things. “You’re about to drop a serious A bomb.” 

Gabriel loosened his tie, feeling the tiredness of 10 old men. It hadn’t been a good morning, in fact scratch that, it hadn’t been a good couple weeks or a decade even. From Castiel being a grief stricken mess all the damn time, to Gabriel attending council meetings in his stead—the journey had been zany to say the least. 

“Oh, you haven’t a clue, brother.” He plopped on the couch himself, letting the comfort of it smooth the knots in his back.

It wasn’t like the mafia was falling apart without Castiel but these past few days where Castiel decided to go on a solo adventure to South Dakota and now to Colorado leaving him to deal with _stuff_ did he realize how Castiel really was the glue that held both mafia and politics together. 

Gabriel couldn’t for the life of him. He made a mental note to give Castiel less shit about his less merciful approaches that Gabriel doesn’t like, because in Castiel’s absence he had to make some of those himself. 

“Naomi give you trouble?” 

“No more than usual.” He sighed loudly. “Have you heard from Cas?” 

Nikolas rolled his eyes. “Like he would call me.” He scoffed. “But honestly, I’m happy for him.” 

Gabriel scowled. It wasn’t like Gabriel wasn’t happy that Castiel finally found the omega, but there were things that would land them in hot waters—like the issue of Sam Winchester, the rogue alpha—the pack would accept him, no problem but there would be reproval by others anyway. Except even that matter was the least of his concern at that point. 

“Hold your horses with the congratulations, it’s not like he’s getting mated.” 

“Not with that attitude, he won’t.” He shot back. “You’re such a buzzkill.” 

“Yeah?” He made a face in challenge. “You sit through a tedious council meeting in _our alpha’s_ lieu, lying to _our father_ through your teeth, and then I’ll ask you why you’re such a buzzkill!” Gabriel half yelled and Nikolas shoved his hands up in surrender. 

“He asked?” 

“Everyone asked.” Gabriel chided, pulling himself off the couch to fetch himself a much needed drink. “It isn’t like him to miss a council meeting. And he doesn’t even know about dad’s whole arrangement to get him hitched.” He huffed, pouring himself a glass full of whatever was at the counter, he found he didn’t care. “Don’t say I told you so!” 

Nikolas scorned dramatically. “But I did though, didn’t I?” Gabriel glared daggers at him. “How bad is it?” 

Gabriel chugged what tasted like wine, _again_ —but he didn’t object. Wine gets you drunk better anyway. “It is Amara bad.” 

Nikolas let out a disbelieving humorless laugh. “No way, you’re kidding.” 

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Gabriel deadpanned, holding the wine bottle to his chest. 

“This is all Naomi.” 

“Not entirely. Dad is not a fool, he knew Cas wouldn’t get with the mating program he so nicely set up.” Gabriel exhaled, scratching his stubble in contemplation. “And now with him skipping his appointment with Naomi, and his absence from the council meeting screams he’s trying to avoid the matter—at least that’s what dad thinks.” 

“When in reality our poor baby bro hasn’t got a clue about this whole shindig.” Nikolas jerked a finger at Gabriel with another ‘ _I told you so’_ look. “And now dad is sending the big guns, and we’re probably about to be in between the worst cross fire of the century.” Gabriel felt like strangling that look off Nikolas’ face but unfortunately his half-wit of a brother was telling the truth. 

If Czar Krushnic was sending Amara, it meant he wanted to move along with his plan _fast_. And Gabriel knew how persuasive and creative Amara could get in times of need. Apart from that, there was the matter of Castiel’s wrath when he’d come to know about his potential betrothal—there would be hell and purgatory combined to pay. And as always, he needed to stop the escalation before it could happen and a possible civil war. 

“We have to tell Castiel before Amara’s touchdown.” Gabriel spouted in urgency. 

“No shit.” Nikolas rolled his eyes.


	16. Road Trip 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such difficulty writing this chapter for some reason, so forgive me if it sucks. It's just Dean's internal monologue for the most part, the conflicting way he feels about Cas. 
> 
> And oh, i broke a fourth wall in this chapter lolll. Comment if you caught it ;) 
> 
> Also, I've never been in an explosion or seen it up close, so like forgive any inconsistencies. I dont have experience with them (thank god lol)

Even as an omega, Dean's self loathing tendencies, as Charlie put it, were as active as _ever_. So he couldn’t help but wonder how better it would’ve been if he was never born, there would be no one to protect and maybe then, mom would’ve had a different life.

He couldn’t help but blame himself for everything that happened—everything his mom went through, everything he put Sam and Charlie through in order to resurrect her which was a selfish act Dean realized. 

Dean needed to be alone, needed his thoughts to run wild while he could will his brain to accept and get over everything that Castiel had dumped over them. He didn’t know how to feel about this whole other person mom was apparently; all the James Bond espionage spying for Russians shit was wacky as hell. 

And the fact that everyone _wanted_ Dean was fucked up as hell to say the least. He felt like a freaking test subject from one of those stupid sci-fi movies that the bad guy always wants, to build an army or nuke the world or better yet the girl everyone wants to take to the prom—Sam and Bobby sure were right. 

He had ended up excusing himself for the night. Cas had obliged and told Dean to take his time for which Dean was gratified—he still couldn’t tell why Castiel, who was supposed to be this scary motherfucker, was being so gentle and patient with Dean. It was such a foreign feeling, almost like acceptance that he wasn’t used to. 

Sam remained with Rowena and Castiel in the hall for some time, but Charlie had followed him to the room. She knew he needed the quiet so she just laid there, beside Dean providing comfort and warmth to him in her own way. It made Dean’s heart swell with affection as he grasped how much Charlie had truly come to know him, probably even better than Sam. 

They laid there in silence, Dean’s mind running a mile per second before Charlie spoke. “So your mom is a badass, huh?” 

Dean sighed, fondly. “Really?” 

“Hey, you know I dig badass chicks.” She elbowed his arm and Dean finally broke into a smile, though his eyes didn’t leave the dimly lit pattern on the ceiling that the light from the bedside lamp created. 

“That doesn’t make any of this okay.” 

Charlie exhaled, like she does when she’s about to break into a speech. “I’m not saying it does, but what good would it do to you if you just keep dwelling on it when you can obviously do something about it now.” 

And she was right, but if anything Dean’s demons had played the blame game with him relentlessly over the years—enough for him to fault himself over every little thing.

“Anything else you’d like to add, your majesty?” Dean good-naturedly teased. 

Charlie did, obviously.

She popped herself up on her elbows and turned to face Dean. “As a matter of fact I do,’ she nodded, placing a fist at the side of her head with her arm supporting her up. “You should take Castiel up on his offer.” Dean made a questioning face earning a bitch face from Charlie. “Don’t play dumb, now. You know it’s better to go to Kansas with him, I don’t know, experience the luxuries of a pack?” 

Dean scoffed. “You really like him, don’t you?” 

“His Zen demeanor doesn’t fool me but he means well.” She shrugged. Though his _'zen demeanor'_ was kinda questionable. Dude was literally mafia but Dean found himself uncaring, for some terrifying reason.

Charlie flopped back on the bed again. “Besides, I think you like him too.” She said, quietly but loud enough for Dean to hear. And Dean found himself blushing even in the dimness of the room, even outside Castiel's presence. Dean pretended not to hear that, of course. 

\-------------------------- 

Come morning, he found himself making a beeline to the kitchen at an odd hour. The darkness of the sky had clues of soft light, which meant the sun wouldn’t come up the horizon for a good hour or two. 

One would think with two alphas under the same roof, separating their scents would be difficult but Castiel's scent was too distinct. It dominated like ruthless waves of the ocean during a storm—everything about him screamed mystery and Dean found that he was drawn to mysteries now apparently. 

The kitchen was dim and if the smell was any indication, the coffee was already brewing, and to his, well, unsurprise Cas was nursing a cup on the table—with a cigarette pressed between his lips. His head jerked up to meet Dean, and Dean couldn’t help but notice how the blue in his eyes glowed even in the darkness. 

“Those things would kill you,’ Dean pointed at the cigarette but his eyes traced the structure of Castiel's silhouette. It felt he had the broadest set of shoulders and Dean allowed himself to gawk, at the curve of his arm, his tousled hair and well, his charming eyes. 

Cas stared back—then a small smile tugged at his lips. “If only they could,’ his voice but a rumble. “Coffee?” He asked, and pointed back at the kettle. 

Dean walked by him, poured himself some and realized Castiel made coffee despite there being a perfectly functional and fancy coffee maker.

“I take it coffee machines are not your thing.” 

He did a full 180 on his stool, his posture now toward Dean who was leaned against the rack—Dean’s breath hitched in his throat but he shoved the coffee down his gullet to suppress it. “I don’t know how to operate one.” He replied so earnestly, Dean nearly choked. 

“I actually figured,’ Dean chuckled, and Castiel looked sheepish but amused. “No judging though.” He assured.

Dean looked down at his cup for a moment before he took another sip and worked up the courage to tell Castiel his verdict. 

“I uh,’ Dean began. “I’ll come to Kansas,’ his heart was now successfully beating in his ears. “With you.” He added and Cas smiled, not like his usual small inconspicuous smiles—it was full, wide and gummy and it lasted only a moment—but it revealed his smile lines to their full potential and Dean’s wolf made some pathetic happy noises. 

“But no rules okay?” He told him. “No crappy authoritative omega rules or whatever. Sam and I will not change to fit anywhere—what’s the point if we have to? And I- 

“Dean,’ Castiel's voice was washed out and low and when his focus broke from it, Dean realized he was close now and his hand had found Dean's arm. “You and Sam are not going to be prisoners. You’ll be free to do whatever you please but I must warn you of wolf-kin fascination with omegas.” 

Dean wouldn’t admit but he sort of zoned out for a few seconds with the level of closeness between them and the sensation of Castiel's strong but gentle hand on his arm. But he got the memo.

“You uh, mean the special treatment and all?” He managed to utter. How? He didn’t know but he was glad his throat didn’t jam.

“Precisely,’ Castiel confessed, taking his sweet time moving backward from Dean and towards his stool again. 

Dean sighed. “I’m not sure I want to out myself just yet.” So far he had enjoyed enough omega privileges to last him a lifetime and he wasn’t looking for a potential servant to wipe his ass now.

“So be it,’ Castiel shrugged, again with the acceptance that Dean wasn't used to but yet he basked in it like a stupid flower—damn his wolf and his omega hormones. 

Dean cleared his throat. “So uh, when do we leave?” 

“We can leave today. I’ll get the jet ready,’ and for a brief moment Dean felt a whiplash. _What jet?_

“Wait, a jet?” He grimaced and Castiel looked confused. “You mean like a plane?” 

“Yes,’ Castiel replied after a beat. “Why?” Confusion still covered his chiseled face, the way he tilted his head. _Of course, he has a jet._

Dean suddenly felt flustered, his wolf was squirming under the scrutiny of his gaze. “Well, I uh, I can’t—you know I don’t really like—well it’s really nothing but-

“I take it planes are not your thing,’ He cut in parroting Dean’s statement right back at him. _Cheeky bastard_ , Dean almost said out loud, looking at the sheer amusement on his face. 

“It’s just that I drive everywhere,’ Dean tried playing it cool, but he was glad he didn’t had to spell it out for Castiel how flying was an actual fear of his. Thanks to that one time, Sam thought it'd be fun to exorcise demons in the air. 

“Of course, you do,’ he assessed, tone laced with sarcasm and a ghost of a smirk on his perfectly chapped lips that Dean was _so not_ gonna peek at again. 

“You know, planes crash.” He chided defensively and Castiel shook his head, endearingly. 

The sky was beginning to brighten, and so did the dark kitchen. Dean’s view of Castiel's face became more clear and came in view the wonder that were his eyes—full of amusement still but Dean regarded that as a good look on the gorgeous alpha’s face. 

“So,’ he said, eyes unwavering from over Dean. “A road trip, then.” 

Dean grinned. 

\--------------------------- 

Sam was rather unsurprised, so was Charlie—but they both were having a field day at Dean’s expense. There was no teasing involved but their stupid faces were making up for it. 

Everyone agreed going to Kansas was the right thing, which Dean came to know, was the capital of Castiel’s empire. Sam was obviously more than impressed and Dean was glad both the alphas were maintaining _an un-hostile_ environment—Dean realized when he overheard the contents of their conversation that both of them were equally nerdy. 

Who the fuck even talks about the characteristics of wolf-kin law? 

Even Charlie was pitching in every now and then. All those wolf-kin books she skimmed through were really coming in handy, it looked like. Rowena glanced at Dean with the same boring look on her face as his—they both rolled their eyes. 

Fast forward an hour or two, Dean was loading the impala with his duffle bags. He was changed into his road gear, as he called it. And shortly after Castiel came trudging out with a single bag slung to his shoulder and it wasn’t helping Dean that he wore a tight plain black tee, and well, jeans. It really, really didn’t help and for a moment Dean regretted, more like Dean’s hoe of a wolf regretted not offering him to ride shotgun with him in the impala. 

But it was logically better that Castiel ride in a different car because 4’s a crowd and he would never subject himself to Sam and Charlie’s teasing eyes. And it wasn’t like Castiel would want to ride with them in view of the sleek black Camaro in the driveway though he’d expressed his interest in the vintages. 

Dean watched the way Cas gaped at Baby as he inched closer, totally taken aback. He ran a gentle hand on the hood with a smirk, and Dean was not gawking at his arm, totally not, not even at the way the fabric of his short sleeve hugged and stretched around his bicep. _Goddamn his wretched wolf!_

“Aint she a beauty!” 

“Yes,’ He nodded, still gently caressing the car. And then he said something in Russian, and Dean confirmed, yep, _I have an accent kink._

“I’m gonna assume that means something good.” 

Cas looked up and his eyes looked infinitely prettier in the light of the day. “I said she is gorgeous.” Dean’s chest swelled with pride and if he were bold his immediate reply would’ve been, ‘ _oh then, don’t stop speaking Russian on my account’_. “It was your father’s, you said?” 

Dean nodded. “At least that’s what Bobby told me.” 

“Ah,’ Cas frowned, pursing his lips into a thin line. “I might have failed to mention but Mr. Singer and I briefly came in contact.” 

“What?” Dean made a face at him from over the roof because WHAT? A part of him wondered if he was okay, to put it plainly the first thought that came to his mind was what if Castiel hurt him in pursuit of Dean, knowing it was probably his dumb mistake that resulted in Castiel finding Bobby in the first place—it was a silly intrusive part of his brain and Castiel seemed to have read Dean’s expression. 

“You marked him,’ he reminded Dean. “He’s okay—unharmed, if you will.” There was a note of detectable irony in his tone and with his poker face it looked like Dean had offended him but he soon realized that Cas was fucking with him. Again, _cheeky bastard._

Dean huffed a laugh and opened his mouth to ask how that encounter went but Charlie came in disrupting the dialogue like a mini tornado. “We’re ready to go,’ she was visibly panting for some reason and Dean didn’t even want to ask why. She and Sam got up to insane petty rituals and games. Dean made a mental note to ask Castiel later, or better yet, he'd ask Bobby directly.

Sam showed up with his bag moments later, and Cas slung his own over his shoulder again. “Later,’ he promised, his signature ghost of a smirk on his face and Dean could feel the heat in his cheeks. “Call if you need to make a stop.” He told Sam, Sam nodded with a small unhappy smile and Dean watched him walk back to his own car. He quickly precluded his wandering eyes to glance at Sam before climbing into the impala—now that Rowena had decided to not accompany them to Kansas despite Castiel offering her a place in the pack—Sam would reek the whole car sulking like a girl who got stood up on prom. 

“At least you got her number!” Charlie exclaimed optimistically.

Dean sighed—this was going to be a long drive. 

\--------------------- 

Charlie and Dean spent their time bobbing their heads to Zeppelin and Metallica while Sam sent Rowena love letters. John Greene was having a field day now that Sam had returned to his usual Romeo self. 

They talked about stuff, all the new shock bombs that Castiel had set off. None of them had much to say, just that they’d find her, with Castiel's help. No excessive comments were made about Cas for which Dean found himself thanking whatever god was listening. Of course, settling down with a pack was a whole another can of worms—Dean was anxious, Sam and Charlie were excited.

Even though Cas had promised him a free life, it felt strange—having lived a human life, it ought to be. But Dean was aware of his wolf’s need to be in a pack, and his own as well. So he needed to overcome his doubts and fears. 

They made more than two stops throughout the day because let’s just say, Dean loves food. Plus he got to see Cas in all his tight tee glory for which Dean internally cursed his wolf. For the most part, at each drive thru or supermarket they stopped at, Cas had been oblivious to the ways of normal humans which Dean found endearing in its own way. 

Dean also noticed the guy was a chimney, he ate nothing the whole day—just smoked left and right which was a bit concerning but hot to watch, besides Dean didn’t know anything about hybrid alpha anatomy to school Cas. In addition to that, who the fuck was Dean to school Castiel anyway? 

As a result, he kept his opinions to himself, and only looked forward to their chats. Every time, Dean felt this phantom itch to know him—ask about his life, ask about whose loss was it that changed him but his want to not overstep his boundaries won over his curiosity.

He wondered if it was a mate, but there was no mating mark to confirm that. So Dean kept wondering, but kept his questions to himself. 

By the early evening, Dean had begun to crave dinner. Cas was ahead with his Camaro so he was notified to stop at the next hole-in-the-wall diner and so they did. Dine Rite Diner was like any other gas station diner Dean had ever stepped foot in but Dean grew up eating at such places, so there were hardly any complaints on his part. Sam on the other hand would have a long ass list. 

Charlie was catching up on her beauty sleep at the back of the impala and Dean knew better than to wake her so he decided to get takeaway for her and for himself too in case they planned on stopping at some motel for the night.

The bell chimed as Dean entered through the door, the crowd was thin, just a couple groups of people scattered here and there—the two blonde waitresses looked like they hadn’t slept for a week, which obviously made them super welcoming and approachable. (Note the sarcasm)

Dean took the middle booth and slid in, Castiel followed but there was no Sam—as it turned out he’d ditched them to stretch his long ass limbs and for gas station protein bars probably. Always was a traitor, that one. But Dean was kinda glad for Cas’ solo company. 

He could tell Castiel had never been in a diner before, the way he narrowed his judgy blue eyes around was proof it wasn’t up to his mark but he avoided making any offhand comments—which was kinda nice of him. Who would’ve thought, a hybrid alpha and an omega sitting in a booth of some low blow diner. Seemed like an opening to a bad joke, Dean thought. 

“Are you well?” Cas spoke, his arms folded on the table and a little lean to his posture. 

Dean nodded averting his eyes urgently, his throat dry suddenly. A beat later, he said, “Hey, I-uh, you know you didn’t have to be on the road with us like this.” He said sincerely. “I mean, I’m sure you have more important stuff to do considering uh, what you do,’ 

“I’m glad to be here, Dean.” And there were again some happy noises from his wolf like that was exactly what he expected to hear.

Dean ordered himself a bacon cheeseburger with a side of medium fry. And though Cas insisted he wasn’t hungry which was odd, Dean ordered for him anyway. “You know, it’s not nice to watch people eat.” 

“If you say so.” He accepted with a small smile.

“Are you on some creepy hybrid diet?” 

Castiel leaned back, amused, his hands falling into his lap. “Why do you say that?”

“You haven’t eaten all day!” Dean tried not to sound like a mother-hen. “So, you’re probably on some diet to keep fit, or you don’t need food.” 

That Dean meant as a joke but well, “The latter, actually.” He replied and Dean’s eyes widened for a split second. 

“No way!” Dean exclaimed. “What the hell,’ 

Cas chuckled at his rejoinder. “It’s true, my sustenance doesn’t particularly depend on food. But I do enjoy it, on occasion.” 

Now that was the shock bomb Dean didn’t see coming. “Is it a hybrid thing?” 

“I suppose it is.” He shrugged. “Nonetheless, what I eat in my wolf form is what nourishes me.” 

“And what do you eat in your wolf form?” 

Cas grinned. “Red meat.” 

And now Dean was envisioning his dazzling wolf form tearing into a piece of meat with his teeth and claws and it shouldn’t make Dean feel so hot under his skin but it did, thanks to Dean’s incredibly brisk imagination. It sent a shudder up his spine, his own thoughts leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

Thankfully, the food arrived right that instant and Dean rubbed his hands together—the aroma of bacon making his taste buds go into spasm already. So he dug in, and told Cas that he was going to learn to love food on Dean’s watch—because seriously, who even eats just for sustenance or nourishment, Dean ate food for the pleasure of it. 

Cas was more than happy to oblige when his phone rang. He narrowed his eyes at the screen like he wasn’t expecting the call from whoever it was. “Do you mind?” He asked, Dean shook his head in response—chewing two mouthfuls of the burger. 

“Balthazar,’ he greeted, right elbow positioned on the table. Strange name, Dean thought. _Someone from the pack maybe?_

Castiel was quiet for a few long moments, listening intensely though his face otherwise remained unaffected by whatever this Balthazar was telling him—it sure seemed important. 

Dean tried not to be nosy, turned his full attention to his burger but then Cas said, “No, no, forget it. I want her alive.” There was finality and such casualness in his tenor that Dean didn’t quite know how to react to this ominous exchange between Castiel and whoever Balthazar was. 

Again, it wasn’t like Dean didn’t know who Castiel was, and what he did and had done. This shouldn’t surprise or affect him, but the fragments of Castiel's energy when they first met in the barn came to mind— blood, torture, the whole nine. 

By the time Cas said, “Thank you, Balthazar,” and hung up, Dean had devoured his burger and was now tossing fries into his mouth. 

“Something wrong?” He asked warily and though Cas seemed unchanged, Dean could feel anger spiking in his scent like bile rising in ones throat—hardly noticeable but there. 

“It appears we had a mole in our ranks,’ he grunted, pulling a cigarette out—there was grimness to such a simple action. It was then a sense of fright rose under Dean’s skin, it was in that flash Cas really looked Castiel, the hybrid. 

As Castiel flicked his lighter, Dean felt a sonorous shock wave wreck through the diner. Dean winced faintly, the sustained roar of the blast ringing in his ears, brief but loud and nerve-wracking. There was a sudden racket in the diner, the scattered people fleeing with grunts and screams and Castiel was uncaring…unaffected—like he almost anticipated that would happen. 

Before Dean could say, _Cas, what the fuck_! Sam came fighting through the hoard of people trying to all leave the diner together through one narrow exit— _idiots_. “With all due respect Castiel, your car just fucking exploded in the gas station!” He hollered and Dean’s mind raced—naturally—to the impala with Charlie sleeping in it. Fortunately, it was parked near the diner, pretty far from the gas station. He sighed in relief before rising to his feet abandoning his leftover fries as well as Cas’ untouched meal. 

“I know,’ Castiel's tone was somber and voice but a low rumble as he slid out the booth—forget about his scent, it was angry as fuck. 

Dean had no idea what had just happened but he could feel the acrid scent of burning in the air, and it only got stronger and fouler as they followed Cas out the diner. To the left, he found a rush of people, bursting into gasps and Castiel's car along with half side of the gas station completely engulfed in flames and to his right—thankfully— a little further around the diner was the impala, safe and sound.

“Cas, what the hell,’ Dean heaved, willing his nerves to calm down because what the fuck, did he just witness a freaking blast? Sam looked equally spooked and confused, and Castiel, well he was still smoking like his expensive car didn’t just explode. 

Dean could feel his own irritation getting the best of his patience but he was also putting two and two together in his mind. He wasn’t familiar with the workings of mafia or even wolf-kin but even he could tell the blast had something to do with the mole in Castiel's ranks. 

“We have to get to Kansas,’ Cas finally spoke, the blue in his eyes a terrifying dark shade. “It seems your mother’s warning wasn’t in vain.” 

\--------------------------------------- 

It wasn’t surprising that Charlie actually slept through the whole chaotic incident that was experiencing a real life explosion. As it turned out, Cas actually had an idea the blast would happen after his concise exchange with whoever Balthazar was, neither Dean nor Sam dwelled on the how’s and why’s. 

Cas, in a very few words explained how the blast, and the sudden discovery of a mole in his ranks could very well mean that their mother’s caution was in some sense, not mythical. And Dean didn’t like the sound of that. 

There was a shift, a perceptible shift in Castiel's attitude—his scent was on guard and his face hard and stoic like that of a soldier. It made Dean’s wolf feel restless, he felt the need to be near Cas, to console him by touch, even though his scent was on the defensive side and emanating protectiveness, but what was Dean even thinking, why was he even thinking what he thought he would never allow himself? 

So he kept his contact to himself, it wasn’t the time to get touchy feely with a hybrid of all creatures. Though Dean did something, something he’d do with Sam when he’d suffer from the pull of the moon as an untrained alpha—he sent waves of serenity and comfort into the air, hoping Cas would catch it. 

It was an omega thing that he liked about himself, a means to provide comfort to the ones he cared about, though Sam had always been oblivious to the source of ease so there was no harm in trying it with Cas. _Dude's tense as hell, he needs to chill_. Dean tried to excuse himself because wanting to provide comfort to Castiel was terrifying, _who the fuck even does that?_

That night, they didn’t stop for a motel. Dean felt strangely invested in the situation at hand, because of his mother’s possible connection to it. Cas naturally didn’t want to ride with them in the impala— _your safety comes first_ , he told Dean since it was Castiel's car that exploded and though Dean felt a warmth run up and down his spine—he felt a part of him was cold still. 

His inability to understand his own emotions agitated him beyond imagination, especially when it came to Castiel who he practically didn’t even _know_ well enough to be feeling _anything_ about but if Dean Winchester was good at anything, it was shoving down and bottling up his sentiments. So, he did just that. 

Shortly after, Castiel hot-wired an ugly red hatchback, Sam found himself impressed and intrigued yet again. Dean and Charlie rolled their eyes. 

Extremely exhausted and with his mind running a mile per second, Dean decided to let Sam drive. “ _Keep close_ ,’ He told Sam, eyes lingering at Dean for a moment. Dean noticed but didn’t return the gaze. 

He sighed. _So much for a road trip_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you liked it in the comments! <3


	17. Alleged Attempted Assassination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, Cas and Dean are further cozying up to each other and that i personally find cute which is saying something considering i hate my writing lol. 
> 
> So, im gonna bring bobby back in the next chapter or so. I'm trying to bring the found family all together by my own means. Writing is super hard y'all. I've been hunched on my laptop forEVER! say rip to my back and send prayers my way, ya girls sickkk. 
> 
> Anyways, have a nice day or night fellas! <3

Gabriel turned the TV off, rubbing his temples. A migraine was intensifying behind his eyes. 

“An attempted assassination of the hybrid,’ Balthazar was awfully cheery and it reminded Gabriel why he loathed the alpha to begin with. “There’s no getting off this bandwagon.” 

Gabriel didn’t need to be reminded that, of course. He knew that better than anyone. 

“So, you were fucking her.” Gabriel glared freaking swords at Nikolas, who raised his hands in mock surrender. He too, seemed extremely cheery at Gabriel’s expense. “You should swear celibacy. Castiel might have your dick for this.” 

Gabriel sighed. He wasn’t expecting Cecily to be a traitorous bitch, he should’ve been able to tell—he thought he’d known her long enough to trust her. It was a damn wonder how she made a fool out of him without breaking a sweat. And the fact that Gabriel vouched for her in front of Castiel felt like the worst choice he’d ever made and he had made _some_ _very_ questionable choices in his long life—for this one though, Castiel would probably have his head on a pin. 

“Wow, you both really came to gloat.” Gabriel muttered through gritted teeth, emptying the glass of whiskey on the table wondering why he even let these two fuckers in his apartment with such grim news on this fine late afternoon. 

He hated that Balthazar flew like a crow to Kansas to dance at Gabriel’s grave. Nikolas totally wasn’t helping the situation like always, and Gabriel was petrified to be at the official Kansas pack house for obvious reasons. The news of Castiel’s attempted assassination had everybody gathered and on edge there—thanks to Balthazar of course for being the bearer of utter bad news, and he would rather ride a razor scooter to the ankle than subject himself to the torture of Hester and Hannah’s questions, Ellen and Missouri’s head smacks, Jo’s punches, Anna’s bambi eyes and Ash’s…all over stoner persona. 

“If you both are done giggling like school girls, can we please focus?” 

“On what, brother mine?”Nikolas deadpanned. “On a looming possible civil war, or that your girlfriend betrayed us and now a very angry hybrid is making a beeline for Kansas with team omega?” 

Gabriel groaned into his hands. “What the fuck do you want me to do, huh?” He snapped, having had enough of their banter. “Don’t forget I am the rational one of you, so what if I fucked a double-crossing zeta bitch a couple times, huh?” 

“Bang up job on that line of reasoning,’ Nikolas scoffed, surfing through Gabriel’s Italian styled kitchen and his overstuffed fridge. “I’m sure Castiel would be thrilled to hear that.” 

Gabriel glowered at him, watching him make cereal in his damn kitchen all while he patronized Gabriel to his heart’s content _. Classic Nikolas._

“Look, I don’t know about you guys but there is a massive prospect of this that screams zeta menace to me.” Balthazar said from where he was propped against the window. “Cecily’s detection and escape was perfectly timed with the missile strike against Castiel.” 

“I agree,’ Nikolas shrugged. “There is no other explanation.” 

Gabriel gave it a thought. “Why now?” He thought out loud, tentatively. “After all this time, they made a move now. Which could only mean as much as this is about Castiel, it is also about the omega. I mean Cecily practically found the silver wolf.” 

“Castiel knows that, he’s not stupid. He just doesn’t give a fuck about semantics, you know that.” Nikolas pointed out, shoving his mouth with spoonfuls of cereal. 

“But it’s going to be different, now that the omega is in the picture.” 

“It’s not going to be different, brother mine. It’s going to be worse, because Castiel will tear this world a new one if anybody so much as looks at the omega funny.” Nikolas made sense which didn’t happen quite often and Gabriel figured there was no escaping a potential bloodbath now that the zetas were making such bold moves. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt your respective chain of thoughts, but we don’t have time to run analysis right now,’ Balthazar pushed himself off the window, gaping at his phone. “Castiel is bringing the omega to the pack house.” 

“Now we’re talking!” Nikolas chimed in, elatedly. But Gabriel waited for the inevitable bang. 

“No we’re not,’ Balthazar told him. “We’re summoned to the HQ.” 

_And there it was._

“In that case,’ Nikolas sighed in disappointment. “May the gods be with us.” 

\------------------------ 

Castiel’s resentment for the zetas overshadowed his delight of bringing Dean to the pack. It was a shame he had to leave Dean to settle on his own when he should be there for him, but duty calls and he had some steam to blow anyway. 

Dean was in good hands, he was safe as long as he was in the pack. And Castiel would damn everyone to the fiery pits of hell if something happened to him. 

So when Gabriel walked into the HQ, it served as a reminder what his stupid hook-up with a zeta could’ve cost him, _had_ cost him. Dean could’ve gotten hurt. 

“I know,’ Gabriel began at once, his hands halfway in the air as he neared the desk between them. “It is my fault, I should’ve never brought her in the pack, I should’ve known better—I-I trusted her.” Castiel cocked his head, his hands finding the pockets of his pants as his eyes wandered from over Gabriel to Nikolas and then to Balthazar. 

“You trusted her,’ He mildly scorned, keeping his voice nil of emotion. “Trust is for children and you, Дорогой брат, are not a child.” 

Gabriel heaved a sigh, his head fell a little and his scent screamed regret but regret was not gonna cut it. “What do you want me to do, Cas?” He asked in a small voice. “I’m sorry this happened okay? But we have bigger problems at hand.” 

“You’re telling me?” Castiel spat, his brows furrowed in contempt. “The zeta threat is rising from under our noses and you’re telling me we have bigger problems _NOW_?” He snarled rising above Gabriel, his eyes flashed red, the anger of his wolf bleeding into his structure. 

The human part of him drew back from Gabriel because the animal in him felt like tearing something apart. He turned away from them to catch his breath—he couldn’t let his anger cloud his judgment and he certainly wouldn’t hurt his own brother. _Not again_. 

“This,’ He swept his arms through the air turning towards them again. “This is the fault of your incompetence,’ he thundered causing all of them to look anywhere but at him. 

Castiel raked a hand through his hair, and then over his face in aggravation—willing his wolf to settle down. His mind was overrun with the images of the night he lost the omega, no matter what—he couldn’t quite let go of those horrendous nightmares. 

So he did the next best thing to ground himself, he thought about Dean. The flashes of the moments he spent with him so far, his sweet scent and shy glances and Castiel almost smiled—even though Dean didn’t remember—he didn’t have to so long as Castiel finds a way to his heart, _again_. 

“My alpha,’ Balthazar spoke hesitantly, breaking him out of thought. “It’s true, mistakes were made—but we have to move past this, we don’t have time to squabble amongst ourselves.” Castiel couldn’t help but concede and so he did, but not without glowering at Gabriel. 

Castiel moved to sit on the couch, and they followed suit. “You’re gonna have to forgive me someday, you know?” Gabriel looked apologetic, but even Castiel couldn’t miss the note of irony in his tone. 

“This is about your poor judgment more than it is about _my_ forgiveness.” Castiel groused jadedly. “You’ll be absolved when you bring that treacherous whore to me.” 

Gabriel brightened up at that. And Castiel moved his attention to Balthazar. “We’re working towards that. But it’s obvious she didn’t act unaided.” Balthazar declared but that was no news to Castiel, he knew she couldn’t have. The way she carried herself around Castiel was proof she was trained to fake her scent and body language, which is a task not many can pull. 

“Her apartment was full of compromising information about your movements,’ Balthazar continued. “I’m thinking my informant caught her _in flagrante delicto,_ that would explain his corpse but by the time she killed him, he’d already sent out the distress signal.” 

“So she left in a hurry?” Nikolas chipped in, sliding down into the couch for more comfort. 

“I can’t say,’ Balthazar scratched his stubble in reflection. “Her escape falls perfectly in line with Castiel’s assassination but,” 

“This wasn’t an assassination,’ Castiel rejoined blankly as he lit a cigarette before leaning back to see the surprise on their faces. Not so much on Gabriel’s though, however stupid—he had the brains to dissect any situation. “This was a warning.” 

“A way of saying ‘ _there’s more where this came from’_ , Gabriel breathed with a smirk. Castiel nodded his agreement taking a long drag. 

“That’s comforting,’ Nikolas muttered to himself. 

“What’s our next move then?” Balthazar asked and Castiel could think about a hundred different things to do, and almost all of them included writing his response to this warning in zeta blood. 

“Nikolas here will arrange a meeting with the Zeta alphas. I think it's time we have a chat,’ Castiel declared and he could almost see a look of opposition on Gabriel’s face but he shut his mouth as soon as he opened it. “While you and Gabriel bring me that whore, _alive._ ” 

Nikolas looked pleased with his new assignment, Gabriel looked like he was having a crisis but until Cecily is found, it was best that Gabriel doesn’t focus anywhere else. That would be punishment enough for him, Castiel reckoned. 

“When you say meeting, I really hope you mean…. _meeting_.” Gabriel grimaced with a defeated sigh. 

Castiel shrugged burning through the last of his cigarette, “More or less.” 

\--------------------------- 

The Kansas pack house was royalty to say the least. It was vast, and when Dean said vast, it meant well…very much so vast. It felt like an imperial estate, plains of grass and wild flowers rolled at one side of it, and on the other side were dense trees that formed a forest—the estate stood in between in all its grandeur. 

The sound of Dean’s heart pounding in his ears rose over Sam and Charlie’s ongoing conversation as he parked the impala in the massive driveway—suddenly everything was too much, it all became too good to be true—Dean wasn’t used to such extravagance. He watched Castiel climb out the car, and though the two guards posted at the entrance bowed their heads for him, his eyes found Dean. Dean felt overwhelmed but he followed suit, averting his eyes from Cas as he killed the engine and helped himself out. 

“So, this is your home?” Dean asked giving the place a once-over just to avoid looking at Castiel, who now stood just at a little distance from him. 

Dean expected a prideful answer, for the place was worthy of one. But Cas just shrugged, “I don’t think so,’ he said, almost a little desolately. “This is just where I live….sometimes.” 

_A mystery,_ Dean couldn't help but think, _who had everything, but nothing it seemed._ And in a way, Dean shared that with him.

“Come,’ he told them and lead them in, through the front door that opened to a colossal contemporary foyer—with a theme that consisted of dark colors—grayish interior with color mahogany in contrast and gorgeously marbled floor. 

Dean didn’t even know what to make of the layout—there seemed to be corridors at every turn and two very wide pair of stairs that lead up. Sam and Charlie both looked equally taken aback as he glanced back at them. 

“Oh my god, you’re fine!” Dean heard a piercing voice boom through the room and turned to see a red head charging at Cas. Dean watched with interest as she clung to Castiel, hugging him and it was after a few long moments he hugged her back. 

“I’m fine,’ Castiel told her as they let go and her eyes fell on Dean. She inhaled the air around her and Dean realized she was whiffing him, her eyes widened slightly and she glanced at Castiel for some kind of verification. “This is Dean,’ Castiel told her before turning towards him. “Dean, this is Anna. My sister.” 

And so the introductions began because more people followed after Anna, bowing their heads to Castiel in respect and Dean felt like he was in the middle of a very long overdue formal family reunion. 

Cas himself looked a bit uneasy, like he wasn’t expecting them to be there. 

Anna was an enthusiastic one, she almost hugged Dean for some reason but decided against it at the last moment for which Dean was thankful. Her scent wasn’t fully developed, and neither were her senses Dean reckoned. 

Castiel took to Dean’s side having sensed his anxiety, Sam and Charlie obviously seemed to be ever ready to get into the pack and Dean felt horrified being the only one to reek the whole place with his worrying stench. 

He sucked in a sharp breath, and masked his scent but let it go when he found Cas’ hand hover at the small of his back and Dean felt a jolt of electricity run down his brain. 

Dean gulped, this was turning into his worst nightmare—the last thing he needed was to pass out again and that too, in front of people from Castiel’s pack. But the hovering of Cas’ hand over his back, the almost-touch seemed to give him a little strength. “I’m here,’ he assured. “I know they can be a little….well, too much.” 

Dean chuckled tensely and the next thing he knew, he was being dragged away from Cas by a very perky little blonde. “Whoa, whoa,’ Dean turned to look at Cas, horrified and saw him almost reach out to him but a very maternal black lady got a hold of him. “American alpha or not, you need a shower, boy! Go, we’ll take it from here.” 

“My god, you smell heavenly,’ the blonde ogled at him and Dean had never felt so uneasy in his entire life—he felt like he’d pass out, literally and he almost did until another lady shooed the girl whose name was Jo, apparently. 

“Hi, I’m Ellen,’ she smiled extending a hand to shake. “Don’t mind my ill-mannered daughter.” Dean shook her hand with an awkward nod and glanced back to check on Cas, who was not there anymore. 

“He _really_ needed to shower,’ the kind black lady appeared at Ellen’s side answering Dean’s silent query, a scowl on her face to go with her emphasize. And that’s how he met Missouri. Dean chuckled, feeling a sense of warmth enveloping him—a warmth that was different than that of Castiel but Dean welcomed it all the same. 

“I, uh, I think I might need one too,’ Dean confessed with a playful scowl of his own. Missouri and Ellen tittered, leading the trio deeper into the maze of a house. 

They showed them to, what looked like their own designated corner of the house or maybe Dean should say estate—more like a whole suite or a penthouse on the second floor that consisted of everything, including their own rooms, a moderately large common room, a kitchen, lavish bathrooms and even a whole fireplace situated just beside the balcony with a staggering view of the dense forest that surrounded them. 

Everything was furnished, from the ridiculously opulent rooms, altogether royal bathrooms to the airy kitchen and the moon drenched balcony. It all looked thoroughly prepared for their arrival and Dean couldn’t help but feel weird about it whereas Sam and Charlie were having the time of their lives. 

Dean felt like he was intruding, up until he showered and freshened up to join Missouri and the gang downstairs in the main hall with Sam and Charlie. It was when he sat down with them, talked and exchanged more than a few words with them did he feel much….not weird. 

They were awfully hospitable, and not in the _omega-special-treatment_ hospitable—no one even brought that up except for well, Jo and Hannah, who kept complimenting his scent. Which Dean found he didn’t mind after the few hundred times they told him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know, he actually took pride in that sometimes. 

Ellen took the liberty of making ham sandwiches for which Dean felt like kissing her hands because god, they were delectable and Dean was hungry. They all fell into easy conversation and Dean’s eyes searched for Castiel, _who the fuck even showers for that long?_

“You don’t have to worry,’ Ellen’s hand found Dean’s and she squeezed gently. “Castiel will take care of everything, and we’re here to help you get settled.” She assured radiating motherly warmth. Dean nodded with a small smile. 

But what he wanted more than settling down in the pack was to find his mother. 

\-------------------- 

Castiel wasn’t expecting Missouri and Hannah back from their doctorly errands, and neither was he expecting the roadhouse band but they were prone to giving Castiel surprises and heart attacks alike. Nevertheless Castiel trusted them to make Dean, Sam and Charlie feel comfortable and at home, and it looked like they were doing just that. There was something so gratifying about seeing Dean amongst them, smiling and making idle conversation. 

He leaned against a pillar in the shadows of the hall, not wanting to attract their attention towards him—just watching Dean, whose head jerked up towards Castiel just moments after and something warm bloomed in his chest draining the worries of the unknown. 

Castiel pulled himself off the pillar and straightened his shirt collars, jutting his chin up, silently conveying a message to Dean and it seemed he understood, a smile dangled on the corner of his lips.

Castiel took that as his cue and turned to walk away and out the main hall towards the sliding door that led to a part of the lawn. 

As he walked out, he faintly heard Dean excusing himself. He smiled. 

The atmosphere outside was vaguely windy and plenty peaceful, the light buzz of crickets dominated the silence as he heard the soft pads of Dean’s feet. With a small smile he turned and saw that even in the shadows the green of his eyes was ever the lively. 

“Hello Dean,’ Castiel breathed out, his eyes for a split second found Dean’s succulent lips—he looked ethereal, his scent even fresher—like a field of a thousand blossoming Freesia flowers. “I uh, wanted to apologize,’ Dean craned his neck, confused but Castiel continued. “I hope they’re not too much trouble.” 

Dean let out a small huff. “Well, they kinda are,’ he hummed, frowning and Castiel’s brows slightly shot up, cat got his tongue until Dean let out a hearty laugh. “I’m kidding, Cas. You can breathe,’ and Castiel did. “I think they’re all wonderful.” 

“I assure you, they’re all good people. They’ll keep your secret as long as you want them to.” Castiel told him, sincerely. “And if there’s anything you want, you need only ask.” _You need only ask and I’ll burn the world to the ground._

Dean sighed. “I want to find her, Cas.” 

Castiel closed a little distance between them, the notes of sadness in his voice was prominent and Castiel understood that more than anything, “I understand your love for your mother, Dean. I hold mine in the same regards as you hold yours.” 

This time, Dean stepped forward—the distance between them, mere long inches. “You do?” 

Castiel cocked his head, a downcast smile on his face. “She made me feel human in the world that wanted a beast.” He looked down to the ground, the memories of his mother flooded the barrier. “One day she was there, and then she wasn’t.” 

When Castiel lifted his head, a soft look laced Dean’s gorgeous features, a look of comfort and understanding. “Was it her loss that changed you?” His voice was hesitant but soft. 

Castiel was a little staggered at that, but the meaning of the question was quite clear to him. “A little, yes.” He agreed and a gust of comfort followed, like it did before—on the sight of the explosion. “But there was another, that one I presume changed me for the worst.” 

“I’m sorry,’ Dean said softly. Another wave of comfort, and Castiel smiled. It was hard not to smile when it was Dean. “Maybe someday you could tell me all about it.” 

_I hope I never have to,_ Castiel almost said. “Someday,’ Castiel affirmed. “But for now I have to go.” 

“Now?” Dean exclaimed, almost like he didn’t want him to. Even if it was wishful thinking on Castiel’s part, he couldn’t help but bask in it—in the possibility that Dean wanted him to stay even when he doesn’t remember anything. 

“I’m afraid I’ve been away too long,’ He sighed. “The zeta mole in my ranks, she’s in the wind and she must be found.” His anger spiked from just thinking about Cecily and her treachery—he felt partly ashamed for being not able to sniff her at once but his instincts once again proved to be more accommodating than Gabriel’s council. 

“When will you be back?” Castiel felt a traitorous smile tug at his lips.

“If I hurry, I think I’ll make it in time for breakfast.” He joked, and Dean laughed briefly. It warmed his heart. Every time, everything he did, it warmed his cold insides. 

“I doubt that considering you don’t eat.”

“Oh, you’ll find Hannah can be very persuasive when it comes to breakfast. Missouri even more so.” 

“I can tell, honestly.” Dean agreed and silence fell in between them—their eyes worked when their mouths didn’t. Castiel found that to be sufficient. He’d endured isolation in excess to not value shared silence with Dean. “Well, keep me in the loop.” Dean said averting his gaze that stood steadfast in the few long stretched moments of silence. 

Castiel stared still, taking in the color crimson that painted Dean’s ears and cheeks. “I’ll be here tomorrow,’ he told him. “By then I suppose Anna would have already bared our history and her soul to you all.”

Dean snickered at that. “Well, she is very….spirited. Doesn’t take after you I believe?” 

“Oh no, she hardly takes after any of us.” 

Another beat of silence before Dean spoke. “And…..if you’re not here by tomorrow?” He probed further, expectantly and god, Castiel could stand there all night if Dean asked. He need only ask. 

“Call me.” Castiel blurted out, stunned at his own bravado. “Or text me. I’m told young people are rather…inclined to it.” Dean burst out laughing at that, his hands on his mouth and Castiel felt utterly mortified at his own choice of words. 

“I-I’m sorry, y-you’re just so…nevermind,’ Dean waved a dismissive hand and straightened up quickly when he saw Castiel watching him, with a pleased look of his own. “I think I might,’ he nodded, another blush rising to his cheeks as he stole eyes from Castiel. “Text…or call.” 

“I think I would like that.” Castiel beamed because he would like nothing more. _Small victories_ , he told himself as his wolf howled in triumph _, again_. 

And then fast forward to after his meeting with Gabriel, Nikolas and Balthazar—in the dimness of his office room he found his fingers lingering onto his onscreen keyboard in anticipation. With one last glance at the time, he finally typed: 

**_See you in the morning_. **

If he were to court Dean, he thought, why not do it the proper way? And to his sheer delight, his phone chimed with a reply several minutes later. 

_**Hopefully ;)** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Дорогой брат- dear brother
> 
> (let me know how you liked it in the comments!)


	18. Special Talents & more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My god was this hard to write!  
> This chap is extremely unbeta'd so please excuse any screwed up tenses and mistakes. 
> 
> I'll try to update the fic as soon as possible again, since this update got a bit later than i expected. Writing is hard so please bear with me!  
> Anyways, let me know in the comments how you like it <3

When Charlie was interested in someone, it was usually very hard to miss. So when she took a quick liking to Anna, the lively redhead—Sam knew he was in for some sexual tension. Not that he would mind, he’d finally have something to hold over Charlie’s head—get back at her for all the teasing she inflicted on him and Rowena. 

Dean had been initially his skeptic self about the whole settling down with a pack ordeal, but this particular morning he was terribly chipper like a switch had flipped. It was probably because of Ellen and Missouri’s welcoming warmth—it was so easy to take a liking to them—or it could be because of Castiel, Sam reckoned. 

The alpha had slipped into the night without so much as a goodbye to anyone, but Dean. Sam couldn’t help but ponder on the possibility of something brewing between them. Dean hadn’t provided much context to his sudden departure, just that he needed to return to his duties, something about the mole in his midst, the situation that could be connected to their mothers warning and that he’d be back by morning probably. 

Which Sam understood. He had tasted Castiel’s fury in the air on the sight of the explosion, despite his calm appearance. 

Breakfast was served in the main hall, courtesy of Ellen. Dean jumped in to help with the eggs while the people they’d met just last night gathered round the table to talk and laugh like they’d known Dean, him and Charlie forever. It was a nice change, really—even Dean was warming up to it despite his many issues with, well…everything. 

Sam got more background out of everyone—Missouri and Hannah were doctors who were on a tour to educate the upcoming batch of young wolf-kin physicians—apparently the human medicine study was slightly different than that of wolf-kin _. Intriguing_ , Sam thought. 

Ellen ran the Roadhouse Casino in Nebraska, which was more a front for heavy arms trafficking which was, for the lack of a better word, badass as heck. “ _It aint the most legal job,’ Ellen said. “But what even is a legal job? This is Russian mafia_.” She laughed. And Sam couldn’t really argue with that. 

Jo was, to Sam’s utter surprise, mated with 2 pups. Her mate Ash ran the casino with Ellen and was currently taking care of the pups while Jo was vacationing, getting hammered at 10 in the morning. “ _Hey, don’t judge me_ ,’ she slurred. “ _You’ll understand when you have pups who scream more than they sleep_.” 

Around 12, he found himself exploring the other wing of the second floor out of curiosity though for some reason he was expecting to find a torture dungeon or something but instead he ended up in the library room which by the way, was _huge_ with at least around 50 timber bookshelves that housed the type of books Sam didn’t even know existed. He made a beeline for the wolf-kin law section and indulged in the basics of it. 

After skimming through multiple books for what felt like a good hour or so, he found Castiel leaning against a shelf casually with a glass of whiskey in his hand and though Sam should’ve been able to scent him, he realized he was so indulged in the ‘ _Laws of the wilderness: as old and true as the sky_ ’ that he didn’t realize there was an alpha in close proximity. 

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said when Sam made a pathetic startled noise. _Way to make a long lasting impression on the hybrid, champ._ “I see you’ve taken a liking to my collection.”

“Oh,’ Sam’s eyes widened slightly. _The hybrid has a library?_ “I uh, forgive me I didn’t know it was yours.” He apologized and rose from the desk. It was still a little awkward between them, they hadn’t had a chance to converse properly, alone. 

A little smiled tugged at his lips as he pulled himself off the shelf and walked to take a seat parallel to where Sam was seated. He gestured for him to sit as well, and an alarm went off in Sam’s brain. _Welp, no more dodging the long overdue conversation._

“It is mine but it is not off-limits, please feel free to treat yourself to some of the gems I have here.” He told Sam, rolling his white dress shirt sleeves up his forearms. 

“Thanks,’ Sam nodded with a smile giving the place a once-over. “It’s remarkable, the books you have here. I’ve never seen anything like them.” 

“You have much to see.” Castiel shrugged. “Do you like it here so far?” 

Sam thought about it for a moment. It had just been a day at best since they arrived but Sam was enjoying it. “I’m getting the hang of it, I guess. Though I’m not sure how long I can stay cooped up here doing nothing.” He tried to sound as respectful as possible, he didn’t want to come off as ungrateful but he didn’t expect to just stay there without making himself useful. 

“I was hoping we could talk about that.” And that was Sam’s cue to start freaking out internally. _What if he kicks me out?_ Said the little intrusive voice in his head and his wolf’s restlessness was doing him no favors. 

“Sure.” 

“You know they say, all wolves were once born feral,’ he glanced at the book Sam had open, the laws of the wilderness. “But even they were governed by laws, still are. And though we share our most principle laws and ways of life with our feral brothers and sisters, I suppose their methods are much simpler than ours as wolf-kin.” 

“The laws of now, as far as I’ve read, are pretty complex, yes.” Sam agreed. 

“You’ve shown quite an interest in them,’ he pointed at the stack of books Sam had chosen from the law section to skim through. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in pursuing it.” 

Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion. Castiel continued, “If yes, I’m positive you’d make an ideal addition to our pack’s set of representatives.” Again, Sam was dumbfounded for a few long moments before it hit him, _he’s offering me a job?_ The answer was probably yes because Castiel was speaking again, “You don’t have to answer right away, take your time please.” 

“I uh, I don’t know what to say,’ Sam chuckled, nervously. “But uh thanks, I’ll think about it.” The answer was _yes, of course_ but Sam needed to really think about it, run it by Dean—think about the fact that he was after all a rogue alpha. If he was getting acceptance from Castiel, didn’t mean others would accept him. 

“You’re _sacrosanct_ , Sam. You have nothing to worry about.” Sam nodded with a small grateful smile. He realized as the alpha Castiel had a duty to his people, and that he was just doing his job but Sam still couldn’t help but recognize the notes of gentleness in his voice. _Was he really the monster people say he is?_

“I uh, I appreciate it, Castiel,’ Sam said sincerely before changing the topic, trying his best to not let the conversation stray towards awkwardness. “Dean told me you had to run last night,’ 

“Yes,’ he said, taking a chug of his whiskey and they ended up talking a little more about the mole situation, though he was rather vague about it. So Sam changed even that topic, asked the question that was wandering about at the top of his mind. 

“Do you really think all wolves were born feral?” Sam asked, the myth Rowena told him about the hybrid being the first of them circulating in his head. 

“I was,’ he casually announced and Sam’s jaw hit the floor. 

“What?” 

“I was born a wolf, my mother nursed me to humanity one could say.” And so they ended up talking about it and Sam stood corrected—he didn’t know Castiel could get more fascinating but he clearly was in the wrong. 

Apparently hybrids are born feral first, it fit with the myth Rowena told him about the first hybrid—born feral but eventually balancing his animalistic and human traits side by side—and omega being the second, a part of the gods sent down for the hybrid to mate with and to think that was how alphas and betas came into being was a riveting notion. Castiel confirmed it for Sam who had a hundred more questions for him. 

But then the obvious question that Sam figured Castiel would eventually ask surfaced, “Where is Dean?” 

Sam couldn’t help but smile at his hesitant tone, internally of course though a smirk might’ve slipped just slightly. “Oh, I don’t know. You’re gonna have to find him yourself.” 

Castiel nodded with the smallest of smiles and rose from the desk leaving him to the stack of books, it was then Sam took notice of his scent—a little soft around the harsh edges. He recommended Sam a book that he expected he’d like. Sam thanked him gratefully. 

“Say hello to Rowena for me.” Sam choked on his own saliva upon hearing that out of nowhere from Castiel as he exited the room.

 _Can hybrids read mind? Did he just lightly tease me? Oh my god, does he know? Does everyone know?_

\--------------------------- 

Castiel was pleased by the way things had started to get less difficult between him and the young alpha. It was clear Sam was naturally intellectual, and his interest in law could be utilized—not that the pack was in dire need of good representatives on the law front for both wolf-kin and mafia subjects but one more brilliant addition wouldn’t hurt. 

Furthermore, it was no secret that Sam and Dean were a package deal. Dean cared about Sam too much and though Castiel found himself unable to care for things usually, he knew caring for Sam would solidify his connection with Dean, not that the alpha himself was any less amiable. But there was once a time Castiel had cared for the whole world, for Dean—his omega—and even now he’d do anything if not more. 

**Where are you?**

Castiel shot a quick text to Dean, rubbing at his eyes tiredly as he plopped down on the couch in the main hall. It was such an odd thing, to see Dean and know he doesn’t remember anything—the reserved nearness wasn’t enough suddenly, Castiel wanted more. 

“Not sleeping again, are we?” Ellen dipped into the couch beside him. “You look terrible.” She scowled. Castiel sighed, he could never get used to her and Missouri’s compassion—not when they know what he was and what he’d done. 

He didn’t particularly regret the chronicles of his past—the blood he’d spilled and his cruelty in general even now—but he found himself undeserving of their love. Anyone’s love for that matter. 

“Thank you, Ellen.” He deadpanned though it was true he hadn’t been sleeping much, even he could feel the exhaustion of it in his bones. 

“This is going to kill you, Cas.” She said softly and there it was again, Castiel’s inability to accept any sort of kindness. “You need to tone it down and get some shut-eye. Don’t lose sleep over that bitch, you know it’s only a matter of time until she’s found.” 

“I know,’ he leaned back into the couch, rocking his phone in his hand expectantly not knowing what else to say, never knowing what to say when someone tried to care for him because no one really has. “I’m fine, where’s Dean?” 

Ellen chuckled. “He’s with Missouri and Jo somewhere and let me tell you, that boy is a joy to be around. So humble and likable, nothing like you gods!” 

Castiel smiled to himself. “Oh, he is a god,’ he assured glancing at her with a smirk. “But you are right, he is nothing like me.” 

“He’s not supposed to be,’ she returned. “He’s an omega…which I thought were myths. Whew.” 

She whistled in disbelief and Castiel had half a heart to explain her that it was the matter of the genetic code and that his own existence was practically a myth too. The abundance of packs under his rule had the tendency to favor spiritualness over science—but then his phone chimed:

 **Find me.**

Castiel beamed at the text, his wolf animated sending a shudder down his spine. The chants of _find, find, find_ unceasing in his mind and the exhaustion in his bones melted away as Dean took over his senses. 

“Excuse me,’ he told Ellen, rising from the couch with his wolf buzzing behind his chest. “I have an omega to find.” 

\--------------------- 

And though Dean had been exploring the estate with Anna, Jo and Missouri—he was left with Jo only by the time they got to the many flowerbeds that rolled at one side of the estate. The winds of the noon were somewhat cool and warm both and Dean found himself inhaling the fresh scent of the scene—the scent of nature. There was something so freeing about it, it made Dean and his wolf feel elated, to see plains of grass roll beneath his feet—a place where his wolf could run free without the fear of being discovered. 

They talked about stuff. Dean learned from her that the pack house was once open to everyone, Castiel never wanted it for himself not because he was bound by duty to care about the American packs and the Russian packs that migrated from there to here but because he simply wanted to give them back what the war had taken from both the sides. But then there were several attempts made to dethrone him, all unsuccessful—since then the main pack house had only been open to few. 

Dean smiled at that. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes, just taking in the warmth of the sun and the scent of the earth before they turned back to the estate. Jo yammered about her pups and Dean asked her to bring them the next time she came, she agreed as she went on and on about how Dean would love them and Dean didn’t have any doubt about that—he’d never seen wolf pups, which was a shame. 

The conversation took a drastic turn when Jo asked him about his thoughts on mating and having a little family of his own. No one had ever asked Dean anything like it (apart from Charlie but Jo asking the same thing was exceptionally different), so naturally it left him blushing like a bride. 

“That’s not my thing,’ Dean told her trying to contain his blush and the sudden enthusiasm of his wolf on the matter. 

“Nope,’ she said. “I don’t buy it.” 

“Why not?” 

She hummed in thought for a moment. “Because that's exactly our kinda thing, don’t you think? To mate for life.” 

Dean couldn’t argue with that. He knew a wolf’s need to mate was as strong as the pull of the moon and he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the need, to have a family of his own—he often regarded those thoughts as the omega part of him but who was he fooling? His mind raced to the possibility, to his own dreams where Castiel’s deep eyes and his wolf had shamelessly starred forever—maybe that meant something, but if anything his own dreams were a mystery to him, much like Castiel. 

“What do you think about Castiel?” Jo bumped into his shoulder playfully as she stopped by a flowerbed of begonias. Dean rolled his eyes at her, trying to seem impassive but the blush on his cheeks screamed otherwise. “What, I think he’s great—a worthy match for our omega!” 

“Ugh, shut up, Jo!” He groaned, glad that Charlie wasn’t there to have an open field day with Jo, but she was too deep in Anna’s eyes to focus on anything else. “Who’s to say he’s available?” 

She bent down to pluck a few and turned to Dean with a grin. “Who’s to say he aint?” She carefully tucked a bunch behind her ear, waggling her eyebrows at Dean for affirmation. Dean chuckled, fixing them in her hair at a better angle. “I mean he would be if it’s you, I’m damn sure.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes at her as she bent down and plucked a few again, “Why do you think so?” He curiously prodded, and Jo reached up towards him to tuck the bunch she’d plucked behind Dean’s ear. “Hey, whoa,’ he complained but the stubborn perky blonde had to have it her way. Dean sighed giving in, as she fixed them in his hair with a victorious smile. 

“Well, have you seen you? Besides…I think you’re both each other’s type. It’s pathetic and it shows,’ she crinkled her nose and walked past him while Dean stood there for a few long moments, thinking what she could possibly mean by _it shows_? 

He twirled around on his heels with a question in mind for her but found a certain hybrid standing behind with his arms clasped at the back and Dean wanted to faint right there and then because _oh my god, his sleeves are rolled up_. 

A fond look took over Castiel’s face as he craned his neck, his bright eyes roaming all over Dean’s face and Dean forgot how to English for a few moments that seemed like minutes. “Hello Dean.” 

The gravel in his voice was enough to make Dean weak in the knees and it did, it really did. The light look of smugness on his face screamed, ‘ _I found you_ ,’ and Dean realized Castiel had masked his scent to sneak up on him because he was letting go now, and it was enveloping Dean—the sheer warmth of it melding with Dean’s scent. 

“Hey, Cas,’ Dean replied in a low voice because English was just starting to come back to him. 

“They compliment your freckles.” Castiel’s voice was almost breathy and Dean almost forgot he had flowers in his hair like a Disney princess. _Great_. But he could internally curse himself for it later, because now he had decided to take Castiel’s compliment and blush like a school girl. _Also great_. 

“Uh, t-thank you,’ Dean looked away. “It was Jo,’ he said, reaching to rip the flowers out but Castiel beat him to it.

“Allow me,’ and though Dean’s breath wedged in his throat with the sudden close contact, Dean did allow him to pick the flowers from his hair while his insides flamed like a bonfire, giving his cheeks an even crimson tang. “They do look ethereal on you.” 

He said plainly with a small smile and god, Dean wanted to tell him that you can’t just say stuff like that but he was too busy turning the color of a tomato and basking in Castiel’s praises. 

Dean cleared his throat loudly as Castiel moved away, the flowers still in his hand and Dean took the liberty to gawk at him all over, his forearms and his tight dress pants that showcased his sturdy thighs and god, he was built like a Roman god, it was insane. 

“Come,’ he said. “Walk with me.” And so Dean did. 

\--------------------- 

“I am leaving tomorrow for Virginia,’ Castiel spoke after a long silence—walking side by side with Dean under the sun and among the flower patches was too pleasant to tell him that he’d be leaving again. Dean glanced at him once, before continuing to walk.

“Everything okay?” 

Castiel openly stared at the side of his head, his freckles a tad too distracting especially under the sun and the way his eyes shone putting the flourishing green lawn around him to shame. 

“I’m meeting with the Zetas,’ he said. “What remains of them.” 

“Why?” He asked, a note of disappointment in his voice. 

“For violent purposes,’ Castiel joked, leaning a little into him. Dean turned his head briefly to smile small. “I have to find out if they had anything to do with… _this._ All this muddle.” He waved his hand in the air dismissively. 

Dean hummed thoughtfully, a comfortable silence fell between them as they walked back to the house—shoulders bumping ever so slightly. It was good, even the silence was enjoyable—the brief touches even better though Castiel still desired to escalate the physical contact—he longed for it. 

“Can I tell you what I think?” He turned sharply to glimpse at Castiel who was a little too lost in his own blatant staring. 

“You can tell me anything,’ He rejoined with a sigh and a fond look towards Dean who was busy stealing eyes from Castiel. It was an endearing sight. They reached the threshold and Dean tentatively turned to face him again.

“I mean it could just be me but I think you need to look at this….more…personally.” 

Castiel narrowed his eyes as they stepped through the door and into the main hall, without so much as breaking eye contact. “How…personally?” He asked attentively, wanting to hear what Dean had in mind as they took seats on the middle chairs from across each other, closest to the foyer. 

“Amongst the people you trust, I guess.” He shrugged. “I mean if she got this close, there is a chance that somebody helped her from the inside right? Unless it’s a cake walk for just about anyone to break into your ranks.” 

Castiel pondered over the words Dean just so casually laid out, giving it a few more seconds to settle before it hit him like a train. Dean made a brilliant point—it was true Cecily didn’t act unaided but to think somebody from within his own circle helped her betray Castiel made….sense. 

“You’re not wrong,’ Castiel marveled at his insight. 

Dean frowned with half a shrug, Castiel’s eyes finding his lips for a split second. “Maybe you should be looking for someone who was at the center of this whole…I don’t know, thing.” 

Castiel leaned forward, hands clasped together as he nodded his head in reflection. Gabriel came to mind, but Gabriel was too invested in the whole family business to betray Castiel plus, he was capable of a lot of things but not betrayal. 

Nikolas hardly gave a fuck about anything and as horrid as his ways were, he wouldn’t betray his family. Ishim was too far kept from everything, Anna was out of the question. 

_Balthazar._

Castiel sighed, willing his mind to not think ill of a friend. Balthazar had been a loyal alpha and friend for years but apart from Gabriel, he was the only one who was at the axis of it all. It was no secret the technical analytic workings of both mafia and wolf-kin was Balthazar’s specialty and considering Cecily got away somehow on Balthazar’s watch had started to become suspicious. 

And it was Dean’s brilliant insight that opened Castiel’s mind to the clues that he had missed royally because of his inability to doubt the people closest to him. 

“дерьмо,’ Castiel muttered, internally cursing himself for being so oblivious. 

“You okay?” Castiel rubbed a hand over his face in frustration, his eyes dragging over Dean who expectantly waited for his answer.

“I uh, I have a vague idea about who that might be but,’ Castiel paused to calm his nerves, sighed before continuing. “But I have to be sure.” 

Dean nodded. “Don’t rule anything out just yet, not on my account. I was just thinking out loud is all.” He shrugged and Castiel softened. There was something so…raw about seeing Dean make such a fine deduction that even Castiel couldn’t make and then sell himself so short. 

“Dean,’ he poured as much gentleness in his name as he could. “Your insight was exceptional, as was your judgment of the situation you know so little about. Even I missed that,’ he emphasized on himself being a moron, because that was what he felt like. But he was also in awe of Dean’s mind. “So, thank you.” 

Dean blushed at that like a blood moon and Castiel gaped brazenly, he let himself gape at the splendor of the colors that painted his face. “S’ fine,’ he muttered rubbing the back of his neck, another attempt to steal eyes from Castiel which Castiel found pathetically adorable. “Don’t mention it.” 

\-----------------------

Castiel spent the rest of the evening with everyone—Missouri decided to make her famous Clam Chowder for dinner, Ellen made a game out of breaking Castiel’s cigarettes in two whenever he took one out and Anna was of course seen muttering and giggling with Charlie, which was something. 

It had been hard for Anna to transition from human life to wolf-kin ways—she had to leave behind her friends, and one special _human_ someone. Even though Castiel wasn’t the one to interfere or care about his siblings personal lives, he knew Anna had become reserved on the ‘dating’ front of her life. 

But even through all the fuss, Castiel’s eyes found Dean ever so often. It was hard not to look and be in awe of him at every glance, to the point Castiel tuned out the overlapping loud conversations happening around him. \

“Dean’s special talent is cooking and doing omega stuff,’ Sam teased, earning a smack at the back of his head. Castiel realized Dean struggled with his identity as an omega, it was a touchy subject since he was content with no one really talking about it. In fact, he avoided it for the most part. 

“And Sam’s special talent is being a tall bitch who doesn’t know when to shut up and you know what,’ Dean grinned at Sam in challenge and turned to the crowd. “Why don’t we talk about Sam’s crush?”

Sam was quick to get defensive over that. It was clear who Dean was talking about, and Castiel couldn’t help but wonder if Rowena and Sam were to happen somehow, how would their relationship go about considering the council practically want her head on a spike. But it was a sight, to see both the brothers joking and arguing with each other. It was something he never had with his siblings.

“What’s Castiel’s special talent?” Charlie turned to look at Castiel who was tending to his fifth glass of whiskey. Her question was mainly directed half at Anna, and though Castiel had no heart to reply her, he could feel Dean’s eyes at him. 

“Oh boy, that’s a can of worms I would _not_ like to open.” Ellen chuckled, glancing back at him. 

“Murder, maybe?” Anna hummed in thought. “Torture, probably.” 

“Or both!” Jo offered. “Murder is art and I’m an artist, a book by Castiel Dmitri Tippens.” Castiel rolled his eyes at that, Dean looked like he was enjoying the banter and Charlie looked visibly horrified. 

“They’re joking.” He assured her.

“No, we’re not.” Jo and Anna said in unison before conceding their teasing when Castiel straightened them both with a look. 

The evening ended shortly after dinner. It was nice spending time with everyone, something Castiel hardly had the time for before—his life had always been full of formal and business dinner meetings, there never was time for domesticity but that particular evening put much in perspective for him—seeing Dean with everyone, bonding, helping Missouri and Ellen in the kitchen—he realized maybe some domesticity in his life was just what he needed. 

But then again, domesticity or not—his time with Dean was what mattered to him the most, however short. 

They said their goodnights, to Castiel’s utter disappointment. He wanted more time with Dean, he wanted all the time with Dean. The stolen glances and reserved touches were not enough anymore—he wanted to touch Dean without any limitations, taste the salt of his skin and the sweetness of his scent on his tongue. 

But Dean wasn’t just anyone, they both had a substantial amount of baggage to work through, that much Castiel knew. But waiting had never been the hybrids strongest suit, but for Dean he had to, for him he’d wait forever. 

\----------------------- 

Sleep and he had been sworn enemies as long as he could remember. The nightmares had danced to the songs of his pain for a very long, long time and if it weren’t the nightmares, there were dreams, memories that hurt more than a nightmare ever could. 

And even though, Dean lived and breathed in front of his eyes—safe from the horrors of his own and Castiel’s past, he couldn’t help but feel half even then. Especially when he laid in bed, loneliness consumed him like a fickle mistress. It was his particular curse, to have everything _but_ the things he really desired and wanted from life. 

So when he slept expecting his slumber to be dreamless, his own loud whimpers that encased his silent chambers awoke him like a soldier amidst battle field. 

Castiel groaned into his hands, rubbing at his sweaty forehead and raked a hand through his damp hair. He heaved a long sigh, conjuring Dean’s scent into his mind to ground himself and stop his wolf that was fighting tooth to nail to break free. 

Such were the nights he’d endured after he lost the omega—he accepted that as a way of atonement, and even though now that he’d found Dean—his nightmares were relentless and cruel, if not more. He wondered if he’d ever escape the restless nights, would life be ever kind to him—would Dean even want someone so broken? Why would he? He deserved nothing but the absolute best, and Castiel was not it, it seemed. 

So when Castiel made his way towards the balcony to get a breath of fresh air, and found Dean was already there gazing up at the sky—he had half a heart to turn back to his room. Or maybe the library, he could always bury his sorrows in the books if not whiskey. 

But he didn’t, instead he let Dean’s content scent overtake his nerves. 

“Can’t sleep tonight, huh?” Dean asked, glancing sideways at Castiel without turning from the sky. 

Castiel took to his side, leaving a little distance between them as he gazed up himself—the stars lightened up the darkness and the wind was slightly chilly making the scene a little more faultless. “Can’t sleep any night, really.” Castiel puffed, trying his level best to keep his eyes on the sky and not Dean. 

“We need to stop meeting like this.” Dean shook his head, a small smile graced his gorgeous lips when Castiel finally glanced at him—the face of his dreams and nightmares alike, something shattered in Castiel at the innocence of Dean’s features. “The stars are extra bright tonight.” He remarked. 

Castiel dragged his eyes away from him to look at the sky and the stars, the plains of flowerbeds and grass that rolled underneath but he found none of them appealed to him when there was Dean standing less than a foot away. 

“They are, yes.” 

A satisfied silence fell between them for a few long moments before Dean spoke again, “So, why can’t you sleep? That a hybrid thing too?” There was a mischievous timbre to his tone and Castiel couldn’t help but glance at him fondly, despite the heaviness of his heart—he found it impossible to not lighten up for Dean.

“You can say that,’ Castiel offered. “Sleep is the stuff of nightmares, sometimes.” 

Dean turned his head to look at him for a long moment with sympathetic eyes, like he understood. “I guess it is.” He looked away almost immediately, like he would give something away and he did—Dean had nightmares too, Castiel grasped. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Only if I can ask you one in return.” 

“Sure.” 

“Ask away, then.” And they both stepped nearer without thinking, mirroring each other’s movement. 

“Why is your name Castiel Dmitri Tippens?” Castiel let out a breathy chuckle at that. “No, really—I thought you were a Krushnic.” A lighthearted curiousness laced his voice, and Castiel couldn’t help but turn to look at his face—his enchanting freckles that powdered around his nose and cheeks flushed in the radiance of little to no light. 

“Well, I _am_ a Krushnic.” He said. “Dmitri was something my mother called me,’ he smiled to himself at the memory of his mother’s soft voice calling to him. “Tippens was her maiden name. I took it after she passed away, because, I suppose, that’s all I could do to honor her—since my attempts to become the person she wanted me to be proved fairly futile.” 

Castiel found that he felt unafraid to let Dean in, to talk to him about things he never talked to anyone about. His mother’s passing away was one of the first thorns that pricked him into becoming what he was, and then more calamities followed—solidifying the beast in him. 

“We’re all works in progress, I guess.” The hope and comfort in Dean’s voice startled Castiel and set in stone how unworthy Castiel really was of him. It broke Castiel when he heard the vestige of Dean’s past self in his present self—the resolve and the optimism to see beauty in everything. 

“I’m not a good person, Dean.” 

“Eh, I think you’re pretty okay.” Dean shrugged, his tone blithe and god, that melted Castiel into a puddle of warmth. But it was the truth, if only Dean knew the lengths of his horrors, he’d run for the hills. 

“What are they about?” Castiel asked his question. “Your nightmares?” 

Castiel was already looking when Dean turned to glance, his eyes following the movement of Dean’s long lashes and his tongue that darted out to wet his lips leaving them shiny with spit. Castiel couldn’t help but look intently, long after Dean averted his eyes and red painted the tips of his ears, visible even in the dimness. 

“You first.” 

Castiel fought a smile. “One would say that’s cheating. I thought we had a deal.” 

“Sorry pal, new deal. Take it or leave it.” Dean flashed him a cheeky grin and Castiel’s heart did a silly flip in his chest that might or might not be humanly probable. 

Castiel sighed, conceding because what wouldn’t he give Dean if he so much as asked. “Well, I suppose they’re a little about everything….war, death, carnage. I’ve lived long, I’ve seen horrors that others could hardly fathom,’ he paused, feeling the weight of Dean’s eyes on him. “And I’ve caused them tenfold as well—but nothing really prepares you for the nights where everyone you ever lost, everyone you hurt comes back to haunt you.” 

Castiel in a way, had barred his soul to Dean—letting him in on his darkness, a little bit—expecting Dean to back away and run from him but Dean stood steadfast beside him, his scent unchanged, still content. 

When Castiel finally gathered the courage to look at Dean, there was an unreadable expression on his face—almost like he was trying to understand Castiel, drink on his words and make sense of them. But he remained quiet, and once again, silence fell between them. 

Castiel didn’t mind the silence in the slightest, he didn’t mind telling Dean just the kind of person he was—undeserving of Dean, and his kindness, his time even. 

“I haven’t lived as long as you have, obviously,’ Dean offered, breaking the silence. “But I think I dream of a life I have already lived.” Castiel’s jaw clenched and his heart thundered within his chest hearing that. “It’s weird, really but I see snippets of the good times, as well as bad. And that bad sometimes surpasses….everything.” 

Castiel’s heart shattered once again, like a fragile glass and despair rumbled through his chest like a growl. It broke him, to hear that even reincarnation couldn’t shield Dean from his brutal past and though Castiel’s anguish took the form of pure white rage often times, this time it was just pure agony—an ache in his chest so strong it turned to ash in Castiel’s mouth. 

“Hey, you okay?” He heard Dean’s low voice over the sound of his loud and self deprecating thoughts and realized he was gripping the hand rails of the balcony, tightly while his breaths came in short and shallow—like someone had forsaken all the weight of the world over his heart.

Castiel stepped away when Dean tried to come close, before Dean’s comforting hands could touch him—he didn’t deserve it. He felt like he’d break under Dean’s kind enthralling eyes. “I uh, I should go now.” Castiel breathed, trying to regulate his beating heart and his fanatical nerves and a sense of comfort washed over him and he lifted his head to meet Dean’s eyes. 

Another wave of comfort, and grief pooled in his chest as he stared into Dean’s eyes that held volumes of compassion within them and just when Castiel felt, he couldn’t feel anymore unworthy of Dean, he stood corrected. 

“любимый моя,’ Castiel murmured softly, gazing into Dean’s eyes ruefully—hands twitching to touch his face. “I’m sorry.” 

Castiel backed away, and left. 

He was not in the right state of mind to be anywhere near Dean. How was he supposed to function knowing the past haunted Dean as it persistently haunted Castiel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> любимый моя- my beloved  
> дерьмо- shit


	19. Trouble in Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So casdean are sulking. Dean is the king of self doubt and self loathing so thats whats happening in this chapter. 
> 
> The implication of north should make sense considering thats where Mary sent Cas a warning from and with his session with the zetas, the threat would become more substantial. 
> 
> I couldnt fit Bobby or Rowena or even Charlie in this chapter because I'm trying to address Dean's emotions while building the wolf-kin politics and the threat against cas' empire. 
> 
> But more to come folksss! <3

To say Dean was sulking would be an understatement. 

He was mad and confused more over his own emotions than whatever happened with Castiel last night. The sudden change in his demeanor shouldn’t have affected Dean as much as it had, it was stupid to get so worked up over something so petty. 

_Maybe he was just tired?_ A voice in his head reasoned. But another voice said, _Maybe he got tired of you. Maybe you bored him, or maybe he just doesn’t like you that much. Even being an omega couldn’t get you anywhere._

But his self loathing tendencies be damned, he knew something was wrong with Castiel. His scent was proof, he was hurting and Dean didn’t know why, or what triggered the sudden burst. 

_Was it something I said?_

He planned on finding out but come morning, he got to know Cas had already left. And that sort of hurt him and annoyed him simultaneously because he’d opened up to him, he found it effortless to open up to him and Dean shouldn’t have—he shouldn’t be trusting let alone opening up to this strange alpha. 

But at the same time, he could feel Castiel’s pain—almost like they’d shared it once. Like they shared many aspects of their being—from the love both bore their mothers to their divinity except there was a lot Dean didn’t know about him and with what happened last night, it was clear Cas wasn’t the type who’d open up and let Dean in easily. 

And though Dean had no reason to be let in on Castiel’s life even remotely—he couldn’t help but sympathize with him for some reason. He didn’t know what happened to him, but he felt sorry for his pain that permeated his scent last night. No one deserved to go through that degree of pain.

A strange part of Dean found himself wanting to know and be there for him and despite that, with a bitter heart he decided he wouldn’t force anything. It wasn’t his place to pry anyway. And if Cas wanted nothing to do with him, then so be it. 

With the force of his emotions, came the insistent uncertainty: _maybe Cas doesn’t even want you here, and why would he? He has everything._ Many more such doubts fogged up his thoughts like a blinding mist. 

“I don’t think we should be here.” Dean told Sam, late in the morning after they were done with Ellen’s delicious pancakes. 

Sam dragged him away from the chatter of the others. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t like it there, he loved it. In a matter of such a brief time, he had grown to like everyone but he had mixed feelings about his stay after last night. 

“Alright talk,’ Sam demanded. “Tell me what’s going on?” 

Dean sighed, rubbing a lazy hand down his face. “I just don’t want to be a burden, okay? I don’t need Cas to be doing us any favors.” 

Sam looked at him the way he usually did when he was about to call Dean out on his bullshit. It was one of the many patented faces of Sam Winchester. “Did something happen between you two?” 

“What? Why would you think that?” Dean scowled defensively, trying to make it as believable as he could. “Nothing happened, okay? I’m just saying, I don’t want to be the _Katniss Everdeen_ to his I don’t know, _Peeta Mellark_. I don’t want to pressure him into doing what he doesn’t want.” 

“That’s oddly specific, Dean. Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” He said in an accusing tone, with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. Dean opened his mouth to defend himself but Sam was speaking again. “Look, I know you get antsy if you stay somewhere for too long but Dean, Cas wants us here.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“You really have to ask after what happened these past few days?” Sam made a face in disbelief. “Besides, he offered me and Charlie a position in the pack.” Sam said quietly. “I mean, not right away, we’re both gonna have to go through trainings and exams,’ he trailed off, the sheer excitement in Sam’s voice was really speaking for itself. 

“What?” Dean scowled deeply, again. “What did you tell him?” 

“Nothing,’ Sam sighed. “We wanted to run it by you first, of course.” 

Dean obviously didn’t know what to make of that move by Castiel. Should he be angry? Should that offend him in any way? He couldn’t find any reason to be neither angry nor offended, considering he was the one who agreed to come to Kansas with Castiel and be a part of the pack. He should be happy, Sam always wanted this—he hardly shied away from his desire to be in a pack but Dean was letting his tangled up emotions get in the way. Sam and Charlie both deserved to be happy. 

“Look Dean, we’ve lived like humans all our life so I understand this could be overwhelming especially for you,’ 

“What do you mean _especially for me_?” Dean crossed his arms, taking offense. 

“Because you’re always over thinking and waiting for the other shoe to drop,’ Sam said plainly. “What I’m trying to say is, this is how things work in a pack. There is no rent, mortgage or...I don’t know, capitalism here like it is in the human world so I get how you must be feeling—like we owe him for his ‘ _favors_ ’ but we don’t.” 

“Why?” Dean deadpanned, his tone nothing but stubborn even though Castiel had already answered that question for him. _We look out for our own,_ he had said. “And don’t say because I’m an omega!” 

Sam rubbed at his temples. “Why is that such a bad thing, Dean? You being in any pack would elevate its status, you know that.” 

“Oh so, Cas is doing what he’s doing because of my godly eminence? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” Dean knew what Sam was trying to convey, and though he was right, Dean didn’t like the sound of it. 

“Do you really think he needs that from you? Dean, he’s respecting your wish by not disclosing your identity as an omega to even the rest of his pack—he’s gaining nothing, trust me. And where even is all this coming from all of a sudden?” 

Dean conceded with a sigh, not wanting to explain his screwed up reasoning behind the sudden change in his attitude but Sam was right. “Look, if the reason you’re suddenly going stir-crazy is because something happened between you two, then you should tell me.” Sam shrugged with a smirk and Dean gave him his best bitch face because sometimes his brother was too smart for his own good. 

“Okay first, shut your pie hole,’ Dean jerked up a finger at him aggressively. “Second, if you want this then go for it.” Dean softened, clapping a hand on Sam’s shoulder. 

“I do.” The glint of happiness in Sam’s eyes was all Dean needed to see. “More than anything.” 

“More than Rowena?” Dean dramatically gasped and though Sam was rolling his eyes, it was hard to miss he was also blushing. “You go for it, okay? You and Charlie both.” He told him firmly. 

“All things aside, Dean, if you really think we shouldn’t be here….then so be it.” A wave of affection warmed through his chest upon hearing that and Dean felt like an asshole for bringing his own feelings where Sam and Charlie’s happiness was concerned. 

“You deserve to be here, Sam. You and Charlie both.” 

“And so do you, Dean. If anything, you deserve to be here more than any of us, trust me you’ve earned it after raising me at the expense of your own childhood and dragging me halfway across the country to see the largest ball of twine and the grand canyon, all twice,’ Sam chuckled and Dean was not ready for the chick-flick moment of that stature. “The point is, for once, Dean—stop doubting yourself.”

Dean smiled, melting over Sam’s determined words. His brother’s resolve gave him life sometimes. “As chick-flick moments usually go, I’m glad Charlie isn’t here. She’d have made me cry real tears.” 

Sam chuckled and the argument they had in Colorado came to mind, the one where Dean had punched his little brother out of anger. Dean still regretted raising his hand to Sam but he also remembered telling Sam he wanted to see him happy in a pack, with a mate, a couple pups and whatnot. 

And now Sam could well over be on his way to that happiness and Dean didn’t want to ruin it, he owed it to Sam and Charlie both—to be happy in their happiness. 

So that’s what he did, he set aside his issues and went ahead to give both Sam and Charlie a tight bone-crushing hug. And the rest of the day went by, in idle chatter and mafia story times by Ellen all while Dean’s mind drifted towards Castiel every minute.

By late-late afternoon, Dean got antsy enough that he decided to go for a drive around Kansas, eat something artery clogging and sulk a bit more at some diner with his hand continuously hovering over his phone—itching to leave Cas a ‘ _just checking up on you_ ’ text but his pride won over his humility and concern. It wasn’t like Castiel needed Dean to check up on him and the last thing Dean wanted was to cross a boundary. _Again_. 

Missouri had discerned his discomfort, it didn’t take long for her motherly scent and warmth to worm through Dean’s heart. It was nice to be cared for, Dean had forgotten what it felt like—it had been long, and the memories he had of his mother were vague. The dread of never getting to meet her again was greater now that he knew she was alive. 

But Dean was expectant if not hopeful. 

Anyhoo, Missouri volunteered to accompany Dean which he found rather odd. He’d told both Sam and Charlie off, wanting some me-time for himself but he obviously couldn’t tell Missouri off who stood in front of him with her hands on her hips like a stubborn pillar. 

Dean agreed with an eye roll and got a light smack at the back of his head by her. _Don’t you roll your eyes at me, boy!_ She told him and though Dean scowled mockingly at her, he couldn’t help but enjoy her maternal predispositions. It gave him a sense of home, something he’d only briefly experienced in Sioux Falls with Bobby. 

They’d been in contact with him, filling him up on everything with concise phone calls knowing Bobby would probably tear them a new one if they didn’t check in with him every now and then. Dean had suggested making the trip to Sioux Falls but Bobby deemed it unnecessary—apparently he shared Sam’s enthusiasm of them settling down in the pack. But Dean in his sullen mood actually missed getting schooled by Bobby—nothing got his spirits up high then getting a well deserved Singer pep talk from him. 

But Missouri was making up for those with her occasional reprimands and Dean found himself thoroughly distracted as he drove and she kept him company by talking about her experience as a doctor who treated both wolf-kin pups and human kids, and how she once had to deliver four pups in one day. It warmed his heart as she went on to share more of her experiences with him and Dean found himself longing once more—pups had always been a sore topic. He blamed his omega anatomy for it, but it wasn’t just that—he had come to realize he longed for a family of his _own_ —he just needed to accept that. 

It took Dean around 15 minutes to navigate out of the posh area of Lebanon in which the pack house was situated in, and another 10 to find a diner but it felt good to be on the wheel again, behind which Dean had spent a chunk of his life. Only now, everything was different—his mother was alive, he had a pack now apparently, a place with people who look out for each other and nothing quite screamed liberation more than being among his own kind, he’d admit to that. 

Sally Ann’s Diner was moderately larger than normal diners with better ambiance, and that made Dean rush for the menu like an overexcited child because who doesn’t love diner’s that serve milkshakes too!? 

The crowd was thin at that time of the evening, the music slow and faded beneath the prattle making the atmosphere more peaceful, just how Dean liked it. Missouri chose the far corner booth from where one could watch the road, a car or two passing every other minute with a whoosh. 

“Look at you,’ Missouri teased. “Drooling all over the menu like a happy dog.” 

Dean shrugged with a goofy grin. “What can I say? I love me some grub.” He said as he got ready to order and encouraged Missouri to do so as well. “Oh you should definitely try one of the milkshakes, they’re heavenly.” Upon which she fondly cackled and shook her head as if she couldn’t believe Dean’s enthusiasm for diner food. 

Without further delay, he ordered Big D’s Aloha Ham Sandwich which came with the side of fry and Triple Thick Strawberry Milkshake to seal the whole deal, done and dusted. Missouri ordered herself a hamburger minus the fries but settled for a normal chocolate milkshake over Dean’s relentless urging. 

“So, tell me,’ she began and it felt like the beginning of a long suffering conversation that Dean rather wouldn’t have. “What’s going on in that sweet little head of yours?” Dean was definitely taken aback by that admission, I mean sure, Dean had grown rather fond of the lady—as fond as one can be in the matter of very few days but he wasn’t about to bare his heart to her just because she asked nicely. 

Dean shrugged, nonchalantly. “Nothing.” 

“Please,’ she tiredly glared at him. “I can sense your bother in the air.” 

“What, do betas have super nose now?” 

Missouri chuckled, her charming dimples making a quick appearance. “Well, I am old…and being a doctor for over a few decades teaches you a thing or two about scents besides, betas can scent _just fine_.” She rolled her eyes defensively at the last bit and Dean couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of his own. “But really, I want you to know you can talk to me about anything,’ her expressions softened. “And with everything that’s going on, you should let someone in. It helps.” 

“I uh, I appreciate it, Missouri. I really do.” He gave her a hesitant smile. “But there are things….burdens... I’d rather keep to myself.” At that her forehead puckered a little, her eyes narrowed like she was trying to assess Dean and Dean never liked being under scrutinizing eyes—it made him feel more of a freak than he already felt like. 

“Burdens,’ she repeated like she’d cracked the code. “You mean the burden of being an omega.” She said quietly with a small sympathetic smile and the last thing Dean wanted was her pity, apart from his nightmares to keep him awake in the hours of darkness. 

“You think you understand, but you don’t.” He plainly told her, his scent spiking of irritation and his eyes all but flashed with the colors of fire. “It’s not your damn place to worry about me so how about you mind your business and let me be!” As soon as the words left Dean’s lips, shame colored his cheeks and he internally cursed himself for the bleakness of his tone. 

Missouri seemed unfazed, an understanding look coming over her face like she expected that outburst from him. And Dean rubbed a hand over his face, trying to will himself sober of the rush of several emotions that screamed: _why can’t you just handle kindness like a normal friggin’ person?_ But he wasn’t normal, and the kindness he was already being paid was more than enough for a hundred lifetimes. 

“You’re right,’ Missouri spoke before Dean could open his mouth to apologize, he was too busy hating himself for it anyway. “I probably don’t understand…but I like to think I do.” She shrugged as Dean gazed in her gentle eyes. “I’ve been here long, Dean—I know when someone’s not comfortable in their own skin…and individuality, when someone thinks they don’t belong—not because it’s my job as a doctor to weigh people up—but because I’ve suffered from it too.” 

Dean listened to her, sending apologies her way through his expressions. “It took time…for me to come to terms…with who I was and though it is the 21st century, intolerance and hate still runs rampant in the hearts of some people.” She reached for Dean’s hand and gave it a little squeeze. “So yes, I might not know what being an omega feels like but I’d like to try, if you’ll let me.” 

Dean melted into a puddle of warmth, squeezing her hand back as he muttered a small apology that Missouri waved off. It was true Dean wasn’t particularly fond of his biology, it came with a lot of things he’d rather draw the line at—like his unsettled feelings, his painful heats, his constant silent want for a mate and a family of his own—it was all too overwhelming for his liking not to mention everything heightened around a certain hybrid. 

They talked some more before their food arrived—about Missouri’s new research on untrained alpha pups and how their violent tendencies can be abated in a forthcoming and gracious environment. And that, Dean obviously found very compelling—he opened up to her about raising Sam, and how it was like with him. Sam had hardly been a violent kid except for that one time of course, but Dean had long decided to disregard that incident. 

“Well, clearly you did something right.” She told him, taking a bite of her burger as Dean dug into his Big D’s Aloha Ham Sandwich and downright moaned because damn, that was good. “Untrained alphas are dangerous creatures. This is why my research’ll be focusing on primarily young alpha pups, we’ll be training them with a non aggressive approach and see where that takes us.” 

“I don’t understand why anyone would choose aggression to train pups…they may be alphas but they’re just pups at the end of the day. Doesn’t make much sense to me.” 

“It’s a force of habit, really. Some customs die hard.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug while she chewed. Dean had already half devoured his sandwich by then and was fiddling with the straw of his milkshake. 

“But what you’re doing, making a difference in both human and wolf-kin world, it’s awesome. I mean hell I know I always wanted to save people.” He admitted. “Be a fireman or I don’t know, a paramedic, something like that.” 

“It’s good that we share the same vision,’ she smiled warmly at him, taking a sip of her own chocolate milkshake before giving Dean an approving nod with a hum. “Because I’m about to make you a proposition and you better be on board with it.” 

“Okay.” Dean said carefully, squinting his eyes at her. 

“I’m in need of an assistant for my research. What do you say? Wanna help an old lady out since you’re part of the pack now.” She said casually with a hopeful frown and Dean’s brows took off from over his forehead. As much as he liked the idea, _scratch that_ , as much as he loved the idea—he wasn’t sure he was qualified for such an opportunity. 

“Are you being nice to me right now?” 

“Nope.” She replied, popping the P. 

“I am flattered,’ Dean told her after a beat of contemplative silence. “Really I am, but help you out how? I only have a GED. I don’t know the first thing about research. I don’t know the first thing about _anything_!” 

Missouri leveled him with a bitch face. “Boy, you belittle yourself too much!” She scowled raising her arm to smack him but he dodged it with a grin. Missouri conceded with a soft smile. “There is a first time for everything, you know?” Dean couldn’t really argue with that. “Besides, you got potential! You’re young, feisty, and now you can choose your own path. And given that you want to help people, this is a good place to begin, son.” 

Something warm bloomed in his chest upon hearing the word _son_ from her and Dean was really beginning to like the sound of her proposition. He chewed at his bottom lip in thought—trying to make up his mind without any further outbursts of his self deprecating self—besides, what else would he even do? Sit around and wait for Castiel like some domesticated omega housewife? No sir, no thanks. 

“Alright fine, I’ll do it.” He agreed, grinning mischievously at her. “You sure you’re not pity partying this helpless omega?” 

And that earned him a hot simmering glare before she was all but yelling at him. “Dean Winchester, Imma whack you with this spoon!” He gave her a shit-eating grin before shoving his hands up in mock surrender. 

_This should be good_ , he thought. 

\-------------------------- 

To say Castiel was sulking would be an understatement. 

Since they had arrived to Virginia—the city they called, peace nucleus—Castiel kept to himself, his displeasure clear in the air around him, so much that even Uriel’s usual impudence had come to a screeching halt. 

Nikolas had watched him grow, from a young wide eyed pup to an unrelenting monster, giving into his true nature on their father’s whims. Even though, there was once a time Nikolas had resented him for what became of Lucas, he found it was hardly Castiel’s fault and though making peace with the loss of the brother you’d shared the womb with was harder than Nikolas had anticipated, he forgave Castiel a long time ago. 

He found that peace he’d lost with Lucas in Castiel, the brother diseased with such tragedy—it made his own loss feel like a walk in the park. True, Nikolas grieved as Castiel did over their mother, over Lucas even but there was something so cruel about how their father had twisted his very essence into something…so tainted…all to boast the Krushnic name. 

Being a beta, he too had been blinded by the appeal of power once. He understood why Michael and Lucas wanted America for themselves, he even understood Michael’s tactic to sic one brother against the other—he understood, and he hated how it worked. That was the origin of Nikolas’ resentment towards Castiel, the golden Krushnic boy, born a hybrid with a silver spoon in his mouth. Nikolas thought he had it all but then he saw where being a hybrid got him and he realized it was all just what it was: an allure. A burden more than a gift. 

It was all politics, Nikolas supposed. It never was his place to care or give his two-cents about the workings of his family considering he had kept himself at an arm’s length from the shrewdness of it all unlike Gabriel who had wedged himself in between all the shit storm for Castiel alone. Not that Nikolas didn’t care about Castiel, it was just that Gabriel had the brains, Castiel was the merciless strategist and Nikolas was the fists of both the pack and mafia. 

And now with Gabriel excused of his first beta duties for the time being, Nikolas found himself subjected to being the diplomat on Gabriel’s orders and that meant Gabriel called ten times per hour and frankly Nikolas found Gabriel’s concerns to be downright needless. Even if the peace treaty was to break, so what? To hell with it. But he thought better than to sound his outlook, Gabriel would have a stroke. 

“All I’m saying is, don’t let it escalate okay. We don’t want to break the peace treaty, we just want to talk, right?” 

For obvious reasons Gabriel needed surety that they wouldn’t just up and break the so-called peace between them but it wasn’t this particular peace treaty that concerned Nikolas. 

“Why don’t we talk about the peace treaty that involves Castiel getting mated to the Ukrainian alphas daughter, huh?” Nikolas sneered from over the phone, removing himself from the comforts of the bed—glancing at the clock that had freshly struck 10, he made his way to the bathroom with an annoyed grunt.

Gabriel groaned loudly in frustration—that was probably the reminder he did not need. “No really, I want to know when you plan on telling him because I’d want to move to Pakistan by then.” 

“Ha, ha, funny,’ Gabriel mocked. “We’ll cross that bridge when it comes.” 

“Oh, no, no, sir—I would very much like to be excluded from that narrative.” 

“No can do, hermano. Uh, uh,’ Gabriel tutted. “Besides, I’ll handle it okay? I just need you for moral support.” 

Nikolas rolled his eyes, using his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear as he grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste in both hands. If Uriel’s absence told him anything, it was that there was still time in the meeting with the zetas because Uriel was insufferable with his punctuality or Castiel probably decided to do the Krushnics a favor by killing that annoying piece of shit. 

“Yeah right, moral support my ass.” He blurted out incoherently as he began brushing his teeth. “It’s a miracle he hasn’t found out on his own. Don’t abuse that miracle.” Gabriel made an annoyed sound at that but it was true that if he did find out on his own before Gabriel could grow the balls to tell him, Castiel’s Russian wrath would come crashing over his head. “Just saying, you’re already in deep shit with this whole Cecily kamikaze, if you go any deeper you’ll end up in Russia.”

“Just get this done without any collateral.” Nikolas could hear the eye roll in Gabriel’s tone but he could roll his eyes all he wanted, the cards were already set on the table. Nikolas just had to sit back and watch and probably book his tickets for Pakistan in case the civil war really broke out between the father-son country. That was nerve-racking to think about even for him, and what he usually wouldn’t give was—a flying fuck about wars but even the most cavalier individual such as himself wouldn’t want a tussle between America and Russia. 

By afternoon, Uriel had personified his insufferable self even more so than usual—blabbering about how they should be setting off for the Christ Church, the neutral grounds for un-hostile meetings. It was the decision of the council in accord with the zetas for the defense of the zetas from the Krushnics (which was funny) and absurd if Nikolas were to be honest. They really tore a page from mob initiatives for peace between gangs and applied it somewhere it had the least chance of working.

At any rate, Nikolas found the whole neutral grounds thing unsound and comical because Castiel was a grade-A atheist. What they should’ve realized was that if he wanted to kill them, he’d just kill them. The power of Christ, as they say, wouldn’t compel him to not and he certainly wouldn’t shy away from committing mass murder in the house of somebody else’s god. So naturally, the whole thing was a fucking joke at best. 

By early evening, they were well over on their way to the Church with Uriel following in the escalade behind. Castiel always refused to have a dozen cars follow him around on every occasion, though Gabriel had insisted, begged and cried even on every other instance _to be careful and not be a douchebag_. It was no secret Castiel had more enemies than he had acquaintances but even so, he found all the ‘ _protocols_ ’ rather archaic and a waste. And frankly Nikolas shared that with him. 

“So uh, what’s going to happen?” Nikolas asked. 

Castiel slammed the door shut as he climbed out the car, a cigarette locked between his teeth. He adjusted his collars, looking up at the church that stood in all its hallowed glory before he turned to answer Nikolas. “What always happens,’ he said. “Nothing good.” 

Nikolas sighed, this was probably not a good answer coming from Castiel but well, what’s the worst that could happen? He shrugged and followed him since Gabriel wasn’t there to freak out for the both of them. 

“Is he okay?” Uriel whispered, matching steps with Nikolas which he found mildly annoying. “Can we get through this without…violence?” 

Nikolas scoffed. “You tell me, you’re the specialist here.” He whispered back with a smirk, as he scurried to walk alongside Castiel who glanced at Nikolas with a look that screamed, _‘keep this pain in the ass off my ass.’_ Nikolas replied in positive with the jut of his chin. It was only so much one could tolerate Uriel’s interference. 

The door swung open and as they walked past the threshold of the church, came in view the massive sculpture of Jesus Christ on the cross first. The details and intricacies of it were hard to miss like the narrow stained glass windows, the cascading pillars at the front and rear of the church and the holy figurines of mother Mary and the fierce biblical angels. 

It was when they grew closer, walking past the empty pews, did he notice the change in Castiel’s scent—a gush of menace making itself known underneath his derisive composure. He could feel Uriel’s wary eyes at the back of his head as they stopped by the sanctuary laced with the color schemes of blues, greens and ocher shades. 

“Сколько лет, сколько зим!” 

Nikolas scoffed lightly at the use of that phrase, wondering how long it would’ve taken for him to learn that. Castiel seemed amused too, as both the alphas seated behind a long table took to their feet in their welcome. 

“Bartholomew,’ Castiel addressed him. “You’ve aged.” He said, and Nikolas couldn’t help but take note of his dwindling youth. 

Bartholomew chuckled. “I cannot say the same for you, hybrid.” 

“The Krushnic brothers,’ Dumah spat with her usual tone of mockery and god, Nikolas had been trying to tune the bitch out even before she began speaking. “To what do we owe this _lovely_ pleasure?” 

Castiel seemed unfazed by her tone as he settled in his seat, pulling a cigarette out already. Nikolas followed suit, amused—seeing the dozen men in black that stood at attention behind them. 

“I see you folks went all out.” Nikolas openly ridiculed them, pointing behind them. “Rather extreme, don’t you think? And using humans now, are we?” He tutted. 

“One can never be too careful, wouldn’t you say?” Dumah retorted. “Our kind has already bled too much at your hands….besides, they’re effective.” She shrugged, glancing back and Nikolas let out a chuckle of utter disbelief that filled the emptiness of the church before he realized he was there to _stop_ Castiel, not indulge in brawls himself. 

“Sit,’ Castiel allowed as he eyed the church up and down. There was something so hilarious about being there, with your hybrid brother who was blatantly smoking a cigarette in the house of god. Now that made for a story worth telling to your kids. 

“Isn’t it poetic? Our neutral ground is a temple of another god.” Bartholomew said. “Christianity is a suave religion.” 

Nikolas leaned back with an annoyed sigh. _Fucking ridiculous is what it was._ The zetas obsession with religious extremism was no secret and their interest in Christianity didn’t came to him as a surprise—it lined up with their own strange beliefs that all zetas were put on earth to lead the shifters, and that they were divine and the only beings worthy of heaven. 

“ _I also gave them over to statues that were not good and laws they could not live by; I let them become defiled through their gifts—the sacrifice of every firstborn—that I might fill them with horror so they would know that I am the LORD_.” Castiel recited, flatly as he crushed his half smoked cigarette under his shoe on the cast stone floor of the sanctuary. 

“Ezekiel 20:25-26.” He said and Nikolas was utterly blown away—knowing the godless man that sat beside him knew the scriptures of a foreign religion was something of a phenomenon in itself. “Your gods have forsaken you, so you’re trying to find solace in the mandate of another god…but let me tell you something,’ he paused, a small smirk playing across his lips. “The gods don’t care, they never have. There is no heaven waiting for you in the end, it very well may be a bottomless pit. After all, the cruelty of the Christian god speaks through his scriptures, does it not? And the cruelty of your own, you have experienced tenfold. So tell me, where do you stand?” 

“You,’ Dumah’s face twisted into a horrid scowl, her tone hostile and loud. “You have the gall to talk about creed? The gods? When you thrive off chaos, and the blood of the innocents—you? Who is nothing but a product of his father’s many wars?” 

“Dumah,’ Bartholomew said in warning and Nikolas grasped the situation could very well get out of hands when he glanced back at Uriel cautiously whose eyes were blown wide with a warning of his own. Though Castiel’s scent screamed nuisance, he himself seemed unfazed by her outburst—the smallest of smirks still playing over his lips like he expected Dumah to snap. 

“No,’ Dumah rose from her seat, Castiel’s eyes followed her form but he leaned back—clutching another lit cigarette in between his fingers and Nikolas held his breath. “I pray you never take a breath without remembering the breaths you’ve taken away.” 

Castiel rose too, his eyes fixated on Dumah who took a step back from the table unconsciously. At that point, Nikolas just watched the exchange—lightly shrugging at Uriel who was freaking out if his expressions were any indication but Nikolas couldn’t care less. It was then it hit him, he really was the worst diplomat ever—Gabriel had been right. 

“And who you might be praying to _, little one_?” Castiel mocked, pointing at her with his cigarette clad hand. “In any case if you must know; I am too old to remember the breaths I have taken from your lineage but I can tell you this….they’re not worth the memory.” His voice is cold and his words a blow to both Dumah and Bartholomew, Nikolas could tell because that was terrific! 

But it was time to talk about what they came to talk about. As much as Nikolas was enjoying the banter, he did not need Castiel going vengeful, they came for a reason so Nikolas finally intervened. “Speaking of, let’s talk shop so we can all go home in time for the 10 o’ clock, yeah?” 

“That would be wise.” Bartholomew smiled at them, and turned his head to give Dumah a silent message to behave which was sensible on his part. 

“I am looking for information,’ Castiel told him, crushing another cigarette beneath his shoe as he took his seat back. “There was a leak recently….and it points to you.” 

Bartholomew frowned. “Are you sure?” He asked. “Because we heard there was a leak in Russia too…courtesy of Ukraine I believe, and yet a peace treaty is in the talks.” Nikolas tensed at that, and Bartholomew’s insinuating tone was making panic settle in his bones. _Fuck, did he know about the betrothal and if so, how the fuck?_ “Are you sure it’s not Ukraine playing her cards in America as well?” 

Nikolas pursed his lips into a tight line. The last thing he wanted was for Castiel to hear their father’s verdict from the lips of a zeta. There would be hell rising from beneath this very church if that happened so he found himself playing the diplomat after all. 

“Don’t turn this around, Bartholomew.” Nikolas chimed in. Better late than never. “She was _a zeta_ and she’s in the air now. If you know something about it, now would be a good time to speak before it’s too late.” 

Dumah scoffed. “Oh, so it was a lady after all that double-crossed the Krushnics. Can’t say I’m hot and bothered about that.” And if the surviving tension in the air wasn’t enough, Castiel’s eyes flashed of red to hers and that infinitely made the atmosphere around them feel like a damn death trap. 

“Careful, Dumah,’ Castiel sneered, eyes murderous still. “Do not forget where you stand on _this_ chessboard.” 

“My alpha,’ Bartholomew stood up, causing the diversion for which Nikolas was thankful. As annoying as Dumah was, he didn’t want any blood spilled—not tonight. “I assure you, we had nothing to do with the leak.” Bartholomew was a diplomat, but he was also a spider and he would do whatever to protect his pack—he was loyal like that so what came next was expected. “We value the protection that comes from this peace treaty therefore I will tell you something that is circulating about.” 

“What would that be?” Castiel narrowed his eyes and Bartholomew spoke despite Dumah’s protesting eyes. They knew something, they always do. 

“There are whispers of a fleet rising in the north.” 

“A fleet of whom?” Castiel questioned. “Zetas?” 

And though Castiel’s attention was directed at Bartholomew, Dumah answered and Nikolas groaned internally at her grating voice. “A bit of everyone, I’d say…if you must know.” Her lips quirked up in mockery and god, Nikolas couldn’t wait for this to be over. 

“We heard they were procuring willing and able individuals to join them,’ Nikolas grimaced, this was the type of information that Castiel paid no heed to, considering many had already tried to raise their flags against him but this was different, clearly—if Castiel’s sudden interest was any clue. 

“How do we know this is not some bullshit?” Nikolas asked. 

“Oh please,’ Dumah rolled her eyes tiredly. “Your web of spiders may be paramount but we are pariahs, we deal with such.” 

“Because we happen to know where their recruitment first began in your domain.” Bartholomew answered his question, ignoring Dumah. 

“Where?” Castiel’s voice was all but heavy with threat and Nikolas bit the inside of his cheek in anticipation. This was not good. 

“Arizona,’ he announced smugly. “It began in Arizona.” And something clicked in Castiel, he clenched his jaw, his hands balled into fists as he rose—Nikolas’ eyed widened slightly when he realized the meaning of that—Arizona was Balthazar’s sphere. And if something like that did go down there, there was not a chance that Balthazar wouldn’t know about it. 

Castiel fished into his pockets, producing a 9mm bullet which he proceeded to toss at Bartholomew. He caught it in one hand, confused. “Keep it.” He said. “Because if you had anything to do with all this— _anything at all_ , I will come back for the bullet,’ he warned and Nikolas couldn’t help but feel a burst of pride in his chest. “And not with the intents of upholding peace.” 

Despite the pride, Nikolas sighed. _Yeah, that was definitely not good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Сколько лет, сколько зим!- how many summers, how many winters!  
> It's a term used to address a friend you havent seen in forever.


	20. Going Native

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, life is kicking ass these days! But i really enjoyed writing this chapter, cas and dean bonding!!!  
> Oh and there's slight torture too, so idk content warning I guess?
> 
> (FYI this is unbeta'd as hell, so please excuse any silly mistakes (because I seem to make a lot of those))   
> Enjoy fellas! <3

Gabriel leaned over the railing, hands clasped together as he eyed Castiel in the dim lighting of the warehouse. The air was that of blood already from the countless tortures that had taken place there and Castiel’s scent was making it damn near impossible to breathe without having panic settle in his gut. 

“Bring me Balthazar,’ Castiel had grunted over the phone with enough emphasize that Gabriel scurried away to obey him at once. And now, here they were—waiting for Balthazar to arrive like many doomed people before him had arrived there: with a black cloth bag draped over their heads. 

As much as he hated Balthazar, Gabriel didn’t know if he was ready to watch what was about to happen to him. And it was clear, Castiel wouldn’t be feeling much of anything while gutting Balthazar who just so happened to be one of his closest friends (not that he had many). It wasn’t that he cared about what happened to Balthazar in the slightest, no sir, no—he had accompanied Castiel to such sessions more times than he could count on his own two hands and he had spent several years of his life including his childhood in freaking Russia for fucks sake, but there was still something so vehemently disturbing about watching your brother slice and dice someone he once cared about. 

He sighed, casting a glance at Nikolas who was munching on a bag of potato chips. Gabriel sighed again, he had no idea where Nikolas pulled snacks out from in such momentous situations. Gabriel rolled his eyes when offered some from a distance, Nikolas really knew how to push someone’s buttons and he was glad the murder brothers (yes, that’s what Gabriel liked to think of them together) hadn’t rocked the world of those zetas any more so than usual. 

Gabriel’s train of thought was interrupted by the giant steel door screeching open, and two of their sub-alphas dragging a struggling Balthazar inside with Uriel following close behind. It was hard to believe that Balthazar would do such a thing, but Gabriel knew better than to doubt or question Castiel’s judgment especially after Cecily—who was still in the air. So he just watched, as the sub-alphas bowed their heads and made an exit—leaving a grunting Balthazar in the hands of Nikolas and Uriel. 

From there onward, Balthazar settled—stopped struggling completely, probably because he knew it was over for him, and if Castiel’s scent was any indication, it really was. Nikolas pulled the black bag from over his head when he shoved the man in the chair. Castiel glanced at his utterly disheveled state whilst opening his cufflinks and rolling his sleeves up like he usually does before torturing anyone. 

“You have hurt me, Balthazar,’ Castiel said in a flat tone, before dragging a chair parallel to Balthazar and taking to it. “I will ask you just one question and I want you to answer as truthfully as you can,’ he leaned forward, his cold eyes the shade of blue that would put the fear of gods in anyone. “Why?” 

Balthazar looked away, pursing his lips into a thin line as he shook his head. “I can’t tell you. It’s not worth knowing.” 

“You don’t want me doing this, Balthazar.” Castiel warned, running a hand over his face. His voice could almost be heard as supple—a soft warning to an old friend. 

“Oh, but I do, Castiel.” He said quietly, eyes firm over Castiel. “I want you to do this, I want you to see for yourself how utterly unhesitant you are to take a fellow comrade’s life. I want you to see the monster your daddy made you.” 

Castiel let out a chuckle, a loud threatening murderous chuckle. Nikolas glanced back at Gabriel with a haughty look that screamed, _oh, this is going to be great._

“You think shaming me, calling me a monster is going to wound me? Rile me up?” He sneered. “Well, I have news for you, _comrade._ I already know all that—in fact I have hand fed the monster in me as I hand fed the traitor in you.” 

Gabriel frowned. “Don’t make this any longer than it needs to be, Balthazar.” Gabriel called out from over the railings. “I am super tired, for one, and second—you know us, there’s no going forward or backwards from here.” Gabriel scoffed, letting the amusement in his tone shine bright for Balthazar to hear. 

“He’s not wrong,’ Nikolas scowled dramatically. “I mean, I’d really rather just gut you and move on but where’s the fun in that, right?” 

Castiel leaned back, a contemplating expression on his face as he crossed his arms. Balthazar laughed, an evident pain in his scent which was kind of unexpected. “They say ignorance is bliss.” 

“Not when you’re in a torture dungeon of a _monster_ , no.” Castiel smiled, crooked but somewhat soft and misleading. Balthazar stopped, allayed just a tad bit and his eyes gently fixed over Castiel. Castiel returned the gaze. 

“I never belonged here.” Balthazar ducked his head, his voice broke a little which again, unexpected from a grade-A traitor who went undetected for years. 

Castiel tilted his head and leaned forward to match his posture. “I gave you Arizona, I gave you a place in my ranks.” 

Balthazar looked up to meet his eyes. A beat of silence passed before he spoke. “But not acceptance.” 

“Acceptance? Are you fucking insane? You think people come here for acceptance?” Nikolas jibed, a deep cackle leaving his throat. “What are you, a 12 years old girl? You went native because you didn’t get enough acceptance here? Are you kidding me?” He continued to snigger, and Gabriel was not immune to that reasoning but he suppressed his delight for later. The drama was too ripe to ruin now. 

It wasn’t a sound motive really, especially coming from Balthazar who had known the workings of the Krushnic family for a long time. He knew this wasn’t Sunday school. No one really feels accepted with the Krushnics or the mafia, you snooze you lose, everyone is an expendable—that was just how it was but Castiel cared about Balthazar, which wasn’t a small accomplishment on Castiel’s own part. 

Castiel leaned back again, his expressions were unreadable like they usually were—poker face was one of Castiel’s many gifts. “Oh, Balthazar,’ he clicked his tongue. “Why didn’t you come to me?” It almost sounded like a generous question. 

Balthazar shrugged. “Didn’t you teach me?” He said. “There is no honor among thieves.” 

Castiel turned his face to Nikolas and Gabriel both, his arms crossed again. “I did, didn’t I?” He asked and it was one of those questions that didn’t require an answer. Though, it was a common phrase that Castiel used several times whenever there was a mafia mishap just waiting to happen. Balthazar taking it _literally_ was rather unexpected. 

“Strip him,’ he commanded. And Gabriel’s eyes widened slightly when he realized this wasn’t going to be the usual sight of carnage, no. This wasn’t a blood-spattered torture, oh no, no—Castiel was going for something worst—utter humiliation. The type of torture that doesn’t only wound an alpha’s pride but demolishes it, absolutely. 

He said strip him and what Gabriel heard was, _strip him to the very base of his dignity_. And that both Nikolas and Uriel did readily. Balthazar showed little resistance, not with his words of course—that was beneath an alpha, to beg and scream but with his pleading eyes that he turned to Castiel—Castiel who was unwavering and adamant. Castiel who wasn’t Castiel, but a betrayed hybrid. 

“This pains me, Balthazar, know that this pains me.” Castiel told him, sincerely as they strapped his very naked body to a steel pole—hands tied behind and legs spread—on display for everyone to see and witness—a-not-so-silent message that conveyed loud and clear the treatment of traitors, however beloved. Balthazar grunted and thrashed about, bared his teeth.

“Then kill me!” He gritted, harsh and hostile. 

Castiel paced about, hands clasped behind as he tutted, shaking his head at Balthazar before he stopped and neared him. “You will tell me where that whore is, I know that you know, Balthazar.” His low voice rumbled through the silence of the warehouse and then he was walking away from him and his all over nakedness that was giving Gabriel the heebie-jeebies. “Besides, death too must be earned _, comrade_.” Castiel muttered loud enough that everyone heard, one hand in pocket and the other holding the coat slung over his shoulder before Nikolas turned on the heavy duty hose and a pressurized stream of water gushed out and over Balthazar’s bare body. 

It wasn’t pleasant, Gabriel could tell if Balthazar’s drowned grunts and gurgles were any clue. By the time Nikolas turned it off, his flesh was flush of the most pigmented red and his heavy pants enveloped the sudden silence in the way that made Gabriel realize that torture with knives and daggers was better than this shit. 

Castiel beckoned Gabriel down from the railings as he told Nikolas and Uriel both to dunk wolfsbane in the water supply if Balthazar failed to comply which by the way, evil as fuck. “Whoa, cool your jets there, satan.” Gabriel lightheartedly leered. 

“I will cool nothing.” Castiel bluntly told him off which okay, classic brooding Castiel. “Call me.” He clapped a hand over Nikolas’ shoulder and with one last glance at Balthazar, he walked out. Gabriel sighed and followed him out into the light. 

He lit a cigarette and took a long drag, soaking up the sun for a few moments with his eyes closed. Gabriel kept quiet and watched, taking a breath of fresh air himself. He didn’t know what to say or that Castiel even wanted him to say anything that would make him feel that water-hosing the shit out of Balthazar was justified. Not that any of that needed any sort of justification—treason was treason. But Gabriel reckoned, despite Castiel’s inability to care—it would’ve been at least a tad hard to do that to a friend. 

“Arizona needs an alpha,’ He spoke, eyes strained by the impact of the sun and his voice ashy. “I trust you to find a suitable replacement.” 

Gabriel bobbed his head. “I will,’ Gabriel affirmed. “But you need to keep up appearances.” He reminded him for safe measures because the pack would ask questions, Balthazar was well-liked among his people, traitor or not. Castiel lowered his head, rubbing at his temples aggressively and Gabriel took that as a sign that talking about the whole Russia weds Ukraine fiasco would result in his untimely death. 

“Fine.” 

“What’s up with you?” Gabriel asked despite…well, everything because if Castiel’s state was any clue—it was clear that it wasn’t just this whole ‘ _my best friend turned out to be a traitor’_ disaster that was making Castiel hormonal. 

Castiel grunted. “Nothing.” But he didn’t move and his shoulders slumped and that was Gabriel’s cue to push him. Because if his brother was anything, stubborn would top the list. 

“Your scent is souring so horribly, it’s burning my nose hair.” He made a face and Castiel looked up at him through his lashes. Now, in any other setting that could be deemed as Castiel’s dangerous _fuck-off_ face but he was frowning deeply, a well-known ache over his face that was reserved for when he thought about the omega. Gabriel has had the privilege to memorize the many faces of Castiel and what they meant. He gave up with a sigh and Gabriel took that as a win.

“I might have…freaked out…on Dean.” Gabriel pursed his lips into a tight thin line at that. _Trouble in paradise already_. “He is so….pure and….unblemished, Gabriel.” He paused, his head lowered still and an old grief made itself known. “And I’m- 

“A monster?” Gabriel finished the sentence for him. Castiel looked up, eyes incredibly light and he nodded. “Yes, you are,’ he shrugged. “So what? What are you gonna do?” Gabriel demanded, a fierce light of empathy in his own eyes for his little brother. “Dance around him forever? Watch him fall for another alpha and why? Just because he’s _pure_ and you’re _corrupt_?” He grimaced for emphasize and watched resolve form in Castiel’s soft eyes. A low roar escaped his gullet and Gabriel half smiled. Jealousy is a disease _but_ a good motivator too. 

Castiel took control of himself, ran a lazy hand down his face and exhaled a sigh. “What should I do?” He was hesitant to ask, in fact, he had never asked Gabriel such questions even for council or anyone for that matter. Castiel was his own man, who made his own decisions however horrible so when he finally asked, the big brother in Gabriel thought it was time for a much needed repartee. 

“Did you completely forget how to date?” Gabriel mocked. “Oh wait, you don’t date. You just fuck. Actually it’s weird that none of us really date let alone mate. You, for obvious reasons. Me, I’d rather eat a grilled slice of my ass than settle down. Nikolas can’t go on a date without mentally scarring at least 6 people.” He snickered, bending his knees slightly to throw his little body back in mirth. “No wonder dad has his panties in a twist.” 

He realized he was blabbering when he met Castiel’s simmering eyes that could put the 4th of July to shame. “Is there a point to this senseless rambling?” 

“No,’ Gabriel sighed. “The point is that there’s no point.” OK, Gabriel wasn’t proud of that one but hold on a second, wait now. “So what, you freaked out? Big deal?” He shrugged again. “I tell you what, I’m throwing a gala dinner for Anna’s 21st birthday, before you ask—yes she’s turning 21 in a couple days. And according to her many, many texts,’ Gabriel pulled his phone out, surfing through a long thread of unread texts from Anna. “She has Ms. Milton over for everyone’s dress fitting and I’m sure you’d love to see your boy in tux.” Gabriel waggled his brows with innuendo. 

Castiel’s brows furrowed. “You’re throwing an official gala dinner for Anna’s 21st birthday?” 

Gabriel rolled his eyes at Castiel’s unreasonable concern. He had always wanted Anna to stay away from official business, be it pack or mafia. But Anna was a Krushnic, and there were just some things Krushnics couldn’t escape plus Anna had always been more inclined towards the family business. So there was really no harm done there. 

“I think it’s about time Anna finds her footing officially within the pack. She’s our only sister, everyone should know Krushnics are diverse.” He joked. “But that’s beside the point, what I’m trying to say is that you should go—apologize if necessary and ask him to the gala.” 

Castiel looked appalled at first, but then he looked like he was considering it, getting it through his thick skull. He even looked pleased after a few long moments of deliberation which was a win because who even was Gabriel, if not a love guru. “Would that guarantee constructive results?” Gabriel made a disgusted face because god, Castiel sure was a rusty dense bastard for someone who was an eligible bachelor worldwide. 

“More than constructive results, little brother, if you clean yourself up before going.” He scrunched up his nose teasingly. “No one likes a sour wolf.” 

\---------------------------

Ms. Milton was a piece of work. 

If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d mistake her for an alpha—if her rigid personality and her tendency to look down on practically _everyone_ was anything to go by. But she was a human, a gray old wrinkly lady with attitude bigger than the Great Wall of China plus Anna had sworn on her unborn pup that her handiwork was unsurpassed hence the ego. Not that Dean cared about fancy ass suits for fancy ass gala dinners but little Anna had been a little too excited and Charlie had begged him to indulge her. To which of course, Dean had teased her endlessly—it got worse when Sam joined in, because Sam was Sam, Sam was relentless. 

And though Dean refused to go through with the fitting, Anna just had to bat her bambi eyes once and it was over for him. But it didn’t make it any less strange for Dean to partake in such extravagant occasions—he couldn’t even remember the last time he had a drink at some high class fancy bar. 

So, naturally, Dean panicked when they began talking about plus ones. Rowena was apparently making the trip from Colorado to attend the gala because well, Sam asked. And if Rowena’s all over persona was any indication, gala dinners were just her kind of thing. 

Charlie and Anna had it all figured out. They announced they were going together which was kind of adorable to watch, because Anna was a blushing mess and Charlie kept fidgeting with her hands like her life depended on it. Sam booed at them, Jo joined in, even Hannah who stayed reserved most of the time teasingly groaned in their direction until Missouri had to get involved to mediate. 

“It’s only fair that Dean goes with Castiel, right?” If murder wasn’t a crime, and if Jo didn’t have pups to her name—Dean would’ve stabbed her in her smug face and because that wasn’t an option, Dean proceeded to glower at her…hard. 

And it wasn’t helping that everyone’s attention fell at him but then Anna was there and she was speaking before Dean could even open his mouth to tell Jo to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. “Don’t be absurd, Jo. Dean can go with whoever he wants, besides bringing someone isn’t necessary.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m not bringing someone either.” Hannah shrugged, flicking almonds in her mouth casually and Anna offered him a small reassuring smile. 

Not that Dean had known either Castiel or Anna for long, but it was for everyone to see how worlds apart they really were. Anna was part human, young, from the world of now and her brothers were these infamous part-mortal, part-immortal beings and yet she talked about them like they hung the moon for her, and how they coddle to even her most foolish desires. 

It was touching, it made Dean more curious about Castiel but then he remembered Castiel’s strange outburst the last time he thought asking questions was okay and welcomed. And now that he had successfully reminded himself what he had been trying to overlook, it made even his lack of date for the gala feel like something significant when in reality it was just a petty thing to be bitter about. 

Dean wouldn’t lie, he had checked his phone incessantly these past couple days. He didn’t know what he was hoping for, or what he could even expect but he couldn’t help but feel a bit desolate when there was no word from Cas. Either way, it didn’t matter—he told himself. Soon, he’d be starting his work with Missouri—that way he could keep himself occupied and push his wretched emotions as deep as he could. It seemed doable or so he thought. 

But then Cas was there all of a sudden—with his avid scent, deep eyes and his tousled dark hair. And it was just about unjust that a couple top buttons of his white dress shirt were unfastened and the ink on his chest peeked out shyly, his coat was slung over his shoulder and he walked like a King. And just like that, all of Dean’s resolve crumbled, all thrown out the window in a snap. His wolf stirred and buzzed behind his chest with ardor, emitting happiness like nobody’s business and to the point Dean had to control his own scent. 

“Castiel!” Anna exclaimed and turned to face him, one hand on hip in surprise and though his eyes had found Dean first and foremost, he smiled at his sister. 

“Ah, _dorogaya_ ,’ he leaned in to place a quick peck on his sister’s forehead and god, that shouldn’t make Dean feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy but it did. It did so he looked anywhere but at Cas, Cas and his broad shoulders, Cas and his face modeled like that of gods. 

“You’re just in time! We were talking about the gala dinner.” 

“So I’ve come to know,’ he said, taking a seat right in front of Dean and Dean suddenly regretted being in the main hall—being at the pack house even. “Is everything up to your objective?” 

“You bet it is. She’s been going crazy the whole time.” Jo snorted. Castiel nodded with a smile and Anna reappeared at Castiel’s side with a glass of whiskey for him like it was some unspoken thing between them. 

He thanked her and then his attention fell at Dean. And Dean wanted to die. “Hello Dean.” He greeted. “Sam, Charlie. I hope you’re all going?” 

While Sam and Charlie let their positive and rather enthusiastic replies known, Dean kept quiet and chewed at his bottom lip contemplating his own response. It wasn’t helping that Castiel’s gaze was fixated on him expectantly. So Dean gave in, “Sure.” He forced a smile and nodded. That should be enough, right? But no apparently it wasn’t, because Castiel’s eyes didn’t waver from over him as he tilted his head like he usually adorably does. 

“Of course, they’re all coming!” Anna chimed in, disrupting the staring contest and Dean could only internally thank her for it. “You have to come, okay? No excuses.” She raised her brow and a finger at Castiel to give emphasis to her request. 

Castiel smiled. “ _Dorogaya_ ,’ his eyes turned to Dean again and god, this stupid term of Russian endearment shouldn’t affect him so much. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

Dean’s eyes instinctively fell away from Castiel and towards Jo, which was a mistake, because the bitch cocked her brow with an amusing smirk at him and if his cheeks weren’t enough heated, they were on fire now. _Thanks, Jo!_

“How went the meeting, Castiel?” Hannah asked, from somewhere behind Dean and his ears perked up at that. 

Castiel frowned, and his scent changed rapidly with that question. He leaned back, bucking his hips a little to fish for his phone from his tight dress pant pockets. And god was it a sight because Dean found himself openly gawking at his movements but if anyone asked, he would simply deny ever staring at the hybrid like _that_. 

“It was successful, I suppose.”

“From who’s standard? Gabriel’s or yours?” Jo chuckled. 

Castiel didn’t look up from his phone which gave Dean the window to just...look at him—the slant of his high cheekbones, his perfect heart shaped lips and his five o clock shadow. “Well, they are alive—if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Jo sighed, almost disappointed. “Gabriel’s then.” 

It was when his phone vibrated in his own front pocket did he realize, Cas was texting him while he sat right in front of him. Dean gulped, willing his nerves to settle. He felt like a goddamn teenager as he took his phone out as discreetly as he could. And there it was, a single text from Cas: 

**Can we talk?**

Dean looked up at him without lifting his head, his eyes were bright and expectant and his hands fiddled with his phone. Dean gave it a thought, his thumbs hovered at his screen with his heart thumping loudly in his ears. He typed: 

**Now?**

Dean looked around for emphasize, they were surrounded by chatter and if they were to excuse themselves together—Dean would never hear the end of it, especially from Jo who had taken Charlie’s title of one hell of a nosy jokester. 

**Yes, there are some things that need your attention.**

Dean fought a smile at that for some unknown reason. He pursed his lips into a thin line and sighed, scratching the side of his head on instinct before he typed: 

**What things would that be?**

Dean didn’t look up to glance at him this time but he could feel Castiel’s eyes at him, through the continuous and loud prattle of Sam and Jo, and who not—Castiel and Dean both seemed to tune out the noise. What remained were their lingering gaze, and scent. 

**Me, for one.**

**If you’re agreeable to my company, that is.**

Dean shamelessly broke into a grin at that, with teeth and all and boy did he feel like the crushing weight of reservation had been lifted off his chest. Castiel _needed_ his attention apparently and though his cheeks felt hot from the straight forwardness, he couldn’t help but feel a tingling sensation of thrill in his gut. When Dean looked up, Castiel was smiling too—one of those small and inconspicuous smiles of his and Dean felt all his nagging doubts wash away. 

**I am agreeable.** **Wanna get out of here?**

As Dean hit send, his wolf droned with mischief. He made sure Castiel noticed the glint of it in his green eyes. And when his phone chimed again, he rose from where he sat, above the chatter that surrounded him—without sparing even a look to the message, he excused himself and his feet took to work. 

**Yes please.**

The text read and though he knew Castiel hadn’t moved yet, he turned to spare him a glance and he could feel his amazed eyes piercing his own with the ghost of a smirk playing across his lips as he watched Dean’s receding form. Dean dragged his eyes away from him, and typed: 

**Come on then, catch me.**

Castiel looked up from his phone, a corner of his lips stretched into a crooked smile and his brow jutted up in challenge as Dean moved out and away from his view. He chuckled to himself and at the sudden surge of confidence that he seemed to get from time to time in Castiel’s presence—it very well could be his omega biology and even if it was, who was he to deny the chase? As his bare feet carried him away from the main hall, and out into the undiscovered nooks and crannies of the estate, his phone chimed in his hands. 

**Don’t mind if I do.**

\---------------------- 

It was just like old times. 

The omega and his unquenchable need to be chased. Old memories had whiplashed Castiel hard and fast—a dense forest, pine trees and an intoxicating scent with Castiel in his wolf form chasing behind him. The sound of his laugh used to echo even in the woods, Castiel smiled at the memory. With the good, he was reminded of the bad too but it was slightly easier now to will those memories away. Because Dean was there, he was right there and though Castiel feared his little rupture of emotions that had occurred the last time he saw Dean would make Dean aloof of him, he was thankful that, that wasn’t the case. 

But it made him feel terrible, all that time in Virginia without so much as a text to Dean. And despite that, Dean was there, shy and beautiful Dean was there—with his shiny eyes, and smile that could light up several dark galaxies. 

So, who was Castiel to deny him the chase, or anything for that matter? Had he not made the earth bleed in his name? And there wasn’t a thing in this whole wretched world that he wouldn’t do for Dean, so he slipped out of the company mere moments later only. His eyes caught Anna, who was fondly smiling at him, rather knowingly. He ducked his head, a little heat to his face but he returned the smile and walked out—his wolf jumping up and about at the rear of his chest, buzzing with exhilaration. The chants of _find, find, find, mate, mate, mate_ unceasing but _mate, mate, mate_ would have to wait. 

Dean’s scent was still fresh in the towering corridors of the premises, which meant he was somewhere inside. Castiel would’ve liked it more if he had chosen the forest, maybe then Castiel would shift and chase him—like he used to, in another life. He ached to see Dean in his silver glory but it was apparent Dean was keeping his wolf at an arm’s length for now, away from everyone. He hadn’t shifted as long as he had been at the pack house, but it was understood omegas were reserved like that. 

As Castiel advanced the upper floors, slowly but surely, taking his time to pick Dean’s faint saccharine scent apart—he realized how content he was in that moment, despite the fact how angry and betrayed he was feeling just hours ago, but even so, putting Balthazar through the torment of his own treachery had been a mix of satisfaction and sting both. It wasn’t like he was much staggered by that revelation, there had been countless betrayals that he had to see to, the reasons were all the same in many regards—none of them really affected Castiel, but what Balthazar did, did. 

Trust never came easy to him, and now it never may. But that wasn’t of import, not when Dean was standing there in front of him, leaning against the handrails of the terrace looking ethereal with the sun setting just behind him. Castiel’s heart flipped when he grinned at him, showing his pearly whites and if Castiel could, he would etch that very scene onto a canvas so that he could remember it always. Just Dean. _His omega._

“Took you long enough.” His grin widened as Castiel neared with a small smile of his own. 

“Just enough.” Castiel said. He turned to face the setting sun, the shades of fire dancing on the dots of freckles on his face. 

And though, a silence fell in between them, Castiel turned his posture towards Dean whilst Dean faced the sun. His scent was that of a field of flowers during rain, pleased and shy at the same time. A scarlet blush painted his ears, neck and cheeks as he ducked his head with pursed lips. 

“You were gone long.” He finally turned to face Castiel, blushing still. “Everything okay?” 

Castiel craned his neck, his eyes wandering about Dean’s face—taking in the benevolent wonder that was Dean and the utter fool that was Castiel. He sighed. “I uh, I suppose, an apology is in order.” Dean looked taken aback, his eyebrows slightly shot up, like he wasn’t quite expecting to hear that. “I apologize, for behaving the way I did last time. And for leaving without saying goodbye, I wasn’t myself. Some things…engulf me at times.” 

“No,’ Dean looked down for a moment. “It was my bad, I shouldn’t have been asking such questions. You have no obligation toward me, or to reply to my nosy inquires.” He glanced up at him through the curtains of his lashes before stealing his eyes again, and Castiel’s heart throbbed. 

“I assure you, it wasn’t that, Dean.” He said firmly. “And if I recall correctly, it was me who asked a personal question first, not you.” His voice softened and he lowered his head to match Dean’s slumped position. “It’s just…our conversation…it reminded me....of someone.” Dean looked up at that, eyes wide and expectant in a way. 

“Someone you lost?” 

Castiel offered him a small smile. “Someone I loved,’ he said. “Someone I lost.” 

Dean didn’t push to know more, maybe Castiel had after all pushed him away like he had effectively pushed everyone away. He had built such high walls around him all this time, the walls that protected him from unwanted emotions, from the world even. And maybe now those walls would drive Dean away too, into the arms of an alpha that wasn’t as broken as him. Even the thought of that sent Castiel’s brain into overdrive but then Dean’s hand found Castiel’s arm, and ease made home in his chest.

“Its okay, Cas,’ he said with a smile, having sensed Castiel’s distress. “Why don’t you tell me about Virginia?” He asked eagerly and Castiel realized Dean was redirecting his attention. 

A sense of strong affection swallowed Castiel whole, and if he could Castiel would kiss Dean senseless, he would kiss him mad in that flash. It was so odd, to be subjected to such kindness when you don’t feel worthy of it. Especially from Dean, divinity amongst men—not when Castiel was only just another monster, a murderer, a god undeserving of everything Dean had to offer. 

And yet Dean was his destiny, the anchor to his madness without even knowing it, let alone the depths of what Castiel felt towards him and Castiel wouldn’t change that for the world, so he took a grip of his abhorrence with his own self, smiled and told him about what transpired in Virginia. He talked and Dean listened. He told him how his insight proved fruitful and that because of it Balthazar was where he deserved to be. Dean had blushed at Castiel’s praise, and never had Castiel liked anything more than the tint of red that painted Dean’s cheeks. 

They talked some more, about the possibility of Mary Winchester’s part in all this upheaval. Castiel promised him that they would find her, in fact he was sure Balthazar’s interrogation would bring forth some clue. He trusted Nikolas to be thorough, and Nikolas was nothing if not thorough. But the fact that Cecily was still in the air bugged him more than he estimated, his anger against her reached a new high each day but he was sure when he does find her, he’d make her end absolute—her suffering unmatched. If Castiel was good at anything, it was just that. 

The sky took the shade of darkness and it was only then they realized they had stood there in each other’s company for such a long time. It was just so uncomplicated, to get lost in Dean—his moss green eyes, the slight deepness of his voice, his charming smile and the distribution of freckles on his face that were to die for. 

“I completely lost track of time!” Dean exclaimed when he looked up at the dimming sky. 

“Me too,’ Castiel agreed, following his gaze up. “I suppose, time moves exceptionally fast when you’re trying to make it last.” It was an obvious flirtation and Castiel almost felt proud of himself when Dean blushed. It was so easy to make him blush, and with each blush that graced Dean’s structured cheeks, Castiel found himself utterly besotted. 

“Yeah, I guess,’ Dean muttered, red-faced. 

“I take it you leave tonight,’ Castiel queried. “With Missouri.” 

Dean looked up at him, a little apologetic but Castiel waved it off. He was beyond pleased that Dean was taking interest in the pack to fault him for not telling him first. He had promised Dean a life of his own, and Dean was his own person, he was entitled to his own decisions. 

“Yeah,’ he nodded with a tight lipped smile. “I’m excited, and also horrified. I’ve never handled pups before. What if they don’t like me?”

“I don’t think that would be an issue.” Castiel shook his head. “If anything, I think they’ll be too fond of you to let go even after the research is over.” Dean chuckled at that, throwing his head back a little and god, Castiel could never get used to his little quirks that made his own heart beat so unbelievably fast. 

“And what do you know about pups?” He asked, teasingly. 

Castiel sighed loudly, his shoulders slumped as he half leaned against the handrails. “Oh, absolutely nothing.” He accepted. But he wouldn’t deny that he’d once wanted to, but then life happened and it kept happening leaving no room for mates and pups. 

“Would you want to?” 

Castiel hummed in thought, not very sure of his stance on pups but one thing he had always been sure of. “We’re creatures of custom, it is carved in our DNA to want to mate for life, to have pups,' he paused to eye Dean. "Can I tell you a secret?" Dean nodded. "I would be lying if I said I’m not blinded by the allure of it sometimes. Sometimes my need for a family surpasses my need to rule, but my life…I’m afraid is no place for pups. And I doubt that is the happiness I deserve.” 

Dean looked down at his hands, he almost looked a bit let down but nodded his head slowly. It was a shame Castiel couldn’t outright tell him what he’d give to have a family, with Dean. How such thoughts had haunted him for years in the grimness of the night. 

“I think everyone deserves to be happy,’ Dean shrugged, innocently. “And I think there can be a place for a lot of things in your life, that is if you make it.” Castiel crossed his arms and tilted his head to look at Dean with a newfound interest. His words were subtle but they hit so close to home, and Castiel couldn’t help but be in awe at the perception of the man, the man who was decades younger than him. “What?” He asked, when he caught Castiel staring. 

_You amaze me_. Castiel wanted to say but it was, “Nothing,’ that escaped his lips as he smiled, shaking his head. 

“I have to go,’ Dean sighed, glancing at the exit. “Missouri must be looking for me.” 

Castiel quickly straightened at that. He was not ready for the conversation to be over. “Would you call me?” Castiel found himself asking. 

“Hm,’ Dean pursed his lips. “Maybe I’ll just forget you exist for a couple days too.” Castiel squinted his eyes, but soon it became clear that Dean was taunting him and he felt his face drop, the feeling of disappointment over himself crept into his veins. 

“I’m sorry,’ He muttered sheepishly, looking down at his shoes and heard Dean chuckle. 

“Cas, I’m messing with you, man.” He said lightheartedly, but that didn’t make Castiel feel any better. “Really, it’s fine. All’s forgiven,’ he assured. “And I’ll call.” He agreed with a small smile. “I’ll call, if you call.” He added and Castiel smiled as well. 

“I’ll call.” He affirmed and a beat of silence before Dean was turning to walk away from him. And it was then Castiel grasped he had forgotten to ask Dean the question of the evening. “Dean, wait!” He called and Dean stopped dead in his tracks before he turned. Castiel willed his nerves to calm, the many doubts of rejection made home in his chest but he closed the distance between them in a few strides. Dean looked surprised, it was probably because of the sudden change in Castiel’s scent that he should’ve masked. 

“Cas?” 

Castiel breathed out. “There is something I need to ask you…about the gala.” 

“Okay?” 

“Would you like to go with me?” He blurted out, no point in dragging the moment. 

Dean tensed at first, but then he let out a sweet chuckle, backing away a little from Castiel as he hummed in reflection—pouting and scratching his stubble for emphasize. “Hmm, maybe.” He shrugged, with a mischievous smirk that matched the sparkle in his eyes. 

“Maybe?” Castiel cocked his eyebrow with a smirk of his own.

“The Greeks said it the best, Cas. **_Phroneîn gàr hoi takheîs ouk asphaleîs_** _._ ” He delivered the phrase effortlessly, arms in the air and a shrug in his shoulders. “Those who make quick decisions are not safe.” 

_You amaze me, endlessly_. Castiel wanted to say, but he hoped his scent and his face would convey the silent declaration. Because the man in front of him was a shy wave in a sea sometimes and sometimes he was a bonfire, burning ferociously with wisdom and mischief, balancing both effortlessly on the palm of his hand. 

“I’ll wait.” Castiel smiled. Because the Greeks also said, **_Khalepà tà kalá_** —Naught without labor. Indeed, beautiful things are difficult to attain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going native: as Nikolas mentions in one of his dialogues is actually a tv trope where the friend of the protagonist or antagonist goes against them because they find the opposite side is better equipped and much more accepting of them. And that's exactly what happened in this chapter, with Balthazar and Castiel. 
> 
> (In case, anyone's wondering)  
> LEAVE KUDOS AND YOUR LOVELY COMMENTS!


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